Encounter At Dawn
by JA Baker
Summary: As First Contact situations go, it could have gone better. But with the threat of the Wraith hanging over them the Colonials, Cylons and Tau'ri are just going to have to find a way to get along... Battlestar Galactica RDM Stargate Atlantis
1. Dead Worlds

_Spoilers for season two of Stargate Atlantis and three of Battlestar Galactica (takes place instead of The Eye of Jupiter).  
Borrowed the title of an Arthur C. Clarke short story. Hope he doesn't mind._

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 1: Dead Worlds**

"Remind me again why we're visiting a planet that the database says is completely uninhabited?" Sheppard asked as the Puddle Jumper emerged from the Stargate and entered orbit, "The atmosphere is just this side of breathable, and there are no native life forms above insects."

"Because we need to harvest Stargate's to complete the intergalactic bridge between Pegasus and the Milky Way." McKay explained for what felt like the tenth time, "And while we could take them from habitable worlds, that wouldn't exactly win us many friends.."

"So?" Ronon shrugged, "There must be dozens, hundreds of worlds that we could take gates from. What makes this one so special?"

"Ha!" McKay smiled, "That's the interesting part: as far as we can tell, the Ancients had some kind of outpost here that might still be intact. And if it is..."

"...then we might find a ZPM." Sheppard nodded, "And that alone is worth our coming all this way."

"Exactly: with only one non-depleted Zed-PM in our procession, there is only so much we can do." McKay explained, "But a second could be used to provide more power for Atlantis, cut down the transit time between here and Earth for the _Daedalus_ or power the Ancient outpost in Antarctica, thus protecting Earth from any attacks."

"All of which are very good reasons for us to get our hands on as many ZPM's as we can." Sheppard agreed, "Which is why Dr Weir agreed to this mission in the first place: there's nothing else on this planet that we could possibly find interesting..."

* * *

"The planet's a rock, but we can convert the algae there into something we can eat, even if it doesn't taste very nice." Admiral Adama stood beside the main plotting table, looking down at the photos the recon _Raptor_ had taken, "We should land here, in this valley: there is a high concentration of algae in the area..."

"Sir, I'm picking something up on the edge of DRADIS range!" Lt. Gaeta reported, "Tracking... it's gone behind the planet, but it was defiantly there."

"Cylon?" Colonel Tigh asked.

"No way to tell." Gaeta shook his head, "But it looked like no Cylon craft I've ever seen."

"Have the CAP fly over the area and see if they can find anything." Adama looked at the main DRADIS console, "We need that algae, but I'm not going to risk opening ourselves up for a Cylon attack."

"Aye-aye, sir." Gaeta nodded before turning back to his station.

"You think that's wise?" Tigh leaned in closer over the plotting table so no one else in the CIC could hear him, "If we get caught flat-footed again..."

"Let's not be." Adama looked up, "But if we don't get some supply's soon, this fleet is going to tear itself apart."

* * *

"I'm not seeing any Ancient outposts." Sheppard scrapped algae off of his shoes for whet felt like the hundredth time, "If this is some wild goose chase, I'm going to let Zelenka carry out those threats he's been making since you sent him to M7G-677."

"You wouldn't?" McKay stopped dead in his tacks.

"Try me." Sheppard smirked, "Was there anything in the Atlantis database that gives a clue as to what we're looking for?"

"No: the entry was cryptic, even by Ancient standards." McKay pulled out his data-tablet and opened up the file, "There's all this stuff about a distant colony that was set up in a star cluster just outside Pegasus in a bid to provide a haven from the Wraith. Then there's something about an unspecified catastrophe that forced them to abandon the planet, transporting the humans who'd been living there with them to another system. The outpost on this planet was supposable created as some kind of way point should those humans ever try and find the Ancients."

"So it could be anything from a transmitter to some kind of warning." Teyla mused, "If they advanced to reach this world, then they would been seen as a threat and culled."

"Either way, the only thing that could power such a device for ten thousand years would be a Zed-PM." McKay pointed out, "So the sooner we find this so-called Temple of Five and this Eye of Jupiter that it holds, the better."

"I agree." Ronon nodded, "We should keep moving."

* * *

"And we got this job how?" Cally asked as she ducked down below a hanging sheet of algae.

"I blame our husbands." Dee smiled weakly, "Lee seems to be more than a little pre-occupied these days, and I have a very good idea just who's on his mind."

"Husbands suck: I'm only here because Galen chose me for his team." Cally agreed, "I should be back on the ship looking after Nicky."

"Oh, you should see the look on Lee's face if I even mention children." Dee laughed, "I think he's terrified of becoming his father. Not that that would necessarily be a BAD thing."

"_Apollo to all teams: report back to base immediately_." The radio crackled, interrupting their conversation, "_Chief Tyrol's found something_."

"Patrol two confirms." Dee reported, before looking at her map, "We should be able to take a short cut back between those two hills other there."

"Sounds good to me." Cally nodded, "But you're the officer."

"True." Dee nodded, "Okay, let's go."

* * *

"Nothing but trees, rocks, and this slimy crap that clings to anything it touches!" Sheppard wasn't happy, and wanted to make sure the rest of his team knew it, "I swear to god, Rodney, I'm going to actively help Zelenka get even when we get back."

"Even if we go back with a Zed-PM?" McKay asked, holding up a hand-scanner, "There's a trace of zero-point energy coming from the top of that hill there. Best guess, that where we'll find the outpost."

"Well, then maybe you'll earn a reprieve." Sheppard nodded, "Let's go."

"I hear something." Ronon drew his energy pistol, "Not far."

"I hear it to." Teyla brought her P-90 up, "Sounds like two people."

"But this world's supposed to be uninhabited!" McKay stared at them in disbelief

"Well, obviously it isn't." Sheppard smirked, "Ronon, Teyla; you two check it out while Rodney and I go find this damn ZPM so we can get off this hell-hole."

* * *

"Should be just over that next ridge." Dee looked at her map and nodded, "Wonder what your husband..." She stopped dead in her tracks when she hared the unmistakable sound of a twig snapping under foot, "**RUN!**"

Cally ducked down low as she started to make her way back down the hillside. She heard the distinctive bark of a standard issue Colonial side arm, followed by a much higher pitched report, and a something read streaked past her head, impacting on a nearby tree. But instead of a hole, the round seemed to resonate out from the point of impact like static electricity. She barely had time to register this before the next round hit her square between the shoulder blades, and her world went dark.

Dee was running in a slightly different direction, pausing occasional to fire one or two semi-aimed shots at the figures running through the trees behind her. They didn't seem to be Centurions, but that didn't mean that they weren't skin-jobs, as the crew had started to call the human-type Cylons. A Trio of bullets slammed into the tree she was hiding behind, so she leaped forward into a bush.

The other side of the bush looked out into a gully that led down the side of the hill, and Dee found herself in an uncontrollable slide, that thankfully took her further and further away from those following her. It wasn't until she was halfway down that she realised that it also took her further and further away from Cally, and she uttered a silent pray that the young mechanic would get away safely.

* * *

"Why is it we always run into hostile natives?" Sheppard lamented as another hail of bullets slammed into the boulder he was taking cover behind, "Captain Kirk never had to put up with this kind of crap!"

"Lucky him!" McKay snapped back, cowering next to the Air Force officer, "Maybe you should tell them we come in peace?"

"Somehow I don't think they'd listen." Sheppard ducked as a grenade went of hereby, showing them with dust and pebbles, "You see that ridge line over there?" He point at a low line of rocks less than twenty meters away, "Try and make a brake for it: I'll cover you."

"Do I look like an Olympic athlete to you?" McKay protested.

"On three!" Sheppard braced himself, "one...two...**THREE!**"

P90 pulled back tightly to his shoulder, he stood, firing a long burst in the general direction of the incoming fire. He counted to five to give McKay time to get moving, then fired another burst before taking off himself. Bullets sparked off the rocks around him as he jinxed left and right towards the cover. Summoning up what strength he had left, he dived forwards, rolling as he landed, coming to rest in a puddle of water.

"That was bracing." He looked round, "McKay?"

"_Colonel Sheppard_." Teyla's voice came over the radio, "_We've captured one of the people we encountered. She is unconscious, but otherwise unharmed_."

"Any idea who we're up against?" Sheppard asked as he pulled the magazine from his P90 and loaded a fresh one.

"_Her uniform is unfamiliar, but it looks vaguely like those used by the Genii_." Ronan commented, "_Although I do not see how they could have reached this world._"

"Yeah, well, we'll take her back with us; maybe she call tell us what the hell is going on and why people are shooting at us, again." The Colonel looked round, "McKay, if you can hear me, make your way back towards the Puddle Jumper. If we get three before you, we'll try and locate you from the air."

* * *

"Is it dead?" Apollo asked, looking down at the fallen form spread-eagled on the path before him.

"Not yet." Chief Tyrol held his gun in a too handed grip, keeping it pointed at the presumed-Cylon, "But it doesn't look anything like the ones I saw on New Caprica."

"We haven't seen them all." The Colonial Captain crouched down and pulled the gun from its holster on the man's belt, "Looks like a pre-war model: definitely not enough to take down a Centurion." He opened the man's pack and pulled out the contents, "Looks like a computer of some sort; much more advanced than anything I've seen. Maybe Gaeta can make something of it."

"_Apollo, this is_ Galactica _Actual_." The radio squawked, "We've picked up the unknown craft on DRADIS: I'm sending Starbuck to intercept."

"_Galactica_ Actual, Apollo copies." The young CAG responded, "Be advise: we have captured suspected Cylon agent on the planets surface. Recommends Starbuck exercises extreme caution."

"_Copy that; will pass on to Starbuck_." The older Adama answered, "Galactica _Actual out_."

"Tigh that thing up." Apollo pointed at the body, "I'll send a _Raptor_ to come pick it up and take it back to the _Galactica_."

"Aye-aye, sir." Tyrol nodded.

* * *

"Any sign of Rodney?" Sheppard asked the moment he reached the Jumper.

"None." Teyla shook her head, "And we have been unable to contact him over the radio."

"That's not good." Sheppard took off his backpack and headed for the pilots seat, ignoring the still unconscious Cally who'd been strapped down on one of the bench-like seats in the rear of the craft. The HUD came to life as he sat down, indicating an pair of airborne contacts inbound at high speed, "It never rains but it pours!" He looked back over his shoulder, "Strap in!"

There was a loud roar as a dart-shaped craft passed overhead at tree-top hight, before turning in a wide circle and heading back towards them. The HUD showed that the other ship was circling high above, painting them with a targeting sensor of some kind.

"Time to be somewhere else." Sheppard brought the Jumper on-line, the rear hatch closing automatically as it lifted off the ground. The first unknown craft passed over head again, letting rip with a long burst of cannon fire that drummed into the hull. Thankfully for those inside, none of the rounds penetrated, but they did set of warning lights on the HUD.

"Oh crap." Sheppard moaned, "We've just lost our cloaking device."

"Shouldn't we return fire?" Ronon asked, "They fired first, without even attempting to contact us..."

"I'd rather not make a bad situation worse, especially if they have Rodney." Sheppard pulled back on the controls and the Jumper rose sharply, the initial compensator's protecting the crew from what would have otherwise been a painfully acceleration. The two dart-like fighters followed, forcing Sheppard to dodge and weave as they fired at it, rounds impacting against the rear with alarming regularity. The sky turned from light blue to black as they passed through the atmosphere and into space, the fighters on their tail slowly dropping behind, unable to match the Jumpers acceleration.'s

"What's that?" Teyla asked, pointing at a large collection of blip on the scanner.

"I have no idea, but whatever it is, it's between us and the Stargate!" Sheppard flipped the Jumper round, bring its nose in line with massive fleet, lead by a sleek, dark grey ship easily twice the size of the _Daedalus_, "Oh this can not be good..."

The space around them erupted in flashes of light as the mammoth vessel opened up, forcing Sheppard to use every trick he knew to avoid getting hit. Flying as close to the hull of the unknown warship as he dared, he managed to get inside the effective range of its guns. He urged the Jumper forward, almost as if he could make it go faster through force of will alone.

"Sixty seconds till the Stargate." He warned as the Jumper ran the gauntlet of the flack-barrage for a second time, "Start dialling the moment we're within range, and send the IDC once the wormhole's established."

"I'm on it." Ronon leaned over the DHD built into the central console.

The Jumper emerged from the fire-storm without sustaining any more damage, and Sheppard pointed its nose towards where the Stargate had been, but it was missing.

"Where the hell..." He blinked, then looked at the HUD; the gate had been taken on bored the strange starship, and was now in one of it's cavernous landing bays. "Okay, this is going to be a little more complicated."

Flipping the nimble Jumper end-over, he dived back towards the narrowly escaped weapons fire, aiming for the open landing bay. He swore under his breath as it started to close before him, the entire pod retracting into the side of the ship.

"Start dialling!" Sheppard shouted as he flipped the Jumper on it's side relative to the other ship, "This I going to be close..."

The Jumper passed through the opening with less than a meter to spare on either side, and headed towards the now active wormhole. Ronan quickly entered his IDC into the GDO and held his breath as Sheppard retracted the drive pods with only seconds to spare. There was a momentary flash, before they re-materialised in Atlantis, only to find that they were upside down compared to the city.

"Well, that's a first." Sheppard blinked as the wormhole closed behind them.

"_Colonel Sheppard?_" Dr Weir asked over the radio, "_Something you'd like to explain?_"

"Long story." The Air Force officer smiled faintly as he righted the Jumper, "But we have a problem: Rodney's MIA, and we have one of the people who might have captured him."

"_Sounds like you've had an eventful day_." Weir replied dryly, "_I'll see you in my office as soon as possible._"

**To Be Continued...**


	2. Necessary Actions

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 2: Necessary Actions**

"Say what you like, that was one hell of a piece of flying." Starbuck admitted as they watched the replay from the landing bay camera's for the tenth time, "I have never seen anything, Colonial or Cylon, that could move like that thing."

"I have to agree." Gaeta nodded, "The g-forces alone should have been enough to kill any pilot..."

"That's assuming it had a pilot." Tigh pointed out, "What about that, thing, we found in orbit? Have we any idea what it did and how it did it?"

"I can't even begin to explain what happened." Gaeta shook his head, "We know that the unknown craft sent two signals to the artefact; the first was a series of pulses that seemed to activate it. The second signal was some kind of highly-encrypted data burst, probably a warning or recognition code."

"Can you tell us what the device is?" Adama asked.

"Again, not really." Gaeta flipped through a pile of printouts, "Whatever it was, it berried the needle on all our sensors; we are talking a massive energy burst, say a hundred times the level needed to power our jump drives at the very least. As for what it created? The only thing I've ever heard of that comes even close would be a wormhole, but they're theoretical." He held up his hands, "This is way, way out of my league."

"Don't worry, son; we're all out of our depth on this one." The com-system bleep, and Adama picked it up, "Adama."

"_Sir, we have some more information._" Apollo's voice crackled over the link, "_Cally Tyrol is missing; we have to assume that she was taken on bored the unknown ship._"

"Does the chief know?" The Admiral asked.

"_I'm afraid he does._" His son confirmed, "_He's, agitated. I think it's best that we keep him away from our prisoner._"

"Understood, _Galactica_ out." Adama thought for a second, then switched the com-unit over to PA mode, "Lieutenant Agathon, report to the CIC." He put the microphone down and looked at the faces staring at him across the table, "We're going to need some help decoding that signal if we're going to find out what's going on."

**

* * *

**

"Carson is seeing to our guest; she's still sleeping off the effects of the stunner." Weir walked round her desk to her chair, "His early prognosis is that's she's human, but we're still waiting on the rest of the test results."

"That's not necessarily a good thing." Colonel Caldwell stood against the door frame, "If their ship is as big and powerful as it seems, and they have more of them, they could be a threat if hostile."

"I have to agree." Sheppard nodded, "We didn't pick up any attempt to communicant; they just started firing."

"And we have to work with the assumption that they have Rodney." Weir leaned back in her seat, "How long would it take the _Daedalus_ to reach that system?"

"I can get us there in 48-hours, if I push the engines." Caldwell shrugged, "Less than a quarter of that, if you let us take the ZPM."

"As much as time could be of the essence, I think it's best if we leave that here." Weir shook her head, "Atlantis is all but defenceless without it. That said, I'd rather not start a war, if it can be avoided."

"I think the best bet would be if the _Daedalus_ takes us to the edge of the system, and we fly a cloaked Jumper in." Sheppard suggested, "If we can get within radio range, we should be able to find out if Rodney's been captured or not."

"Agreed." Weir nodded, "Colonel Caldwell, I know that the _Daedalus_ is your command, but I'll be going along: I have more experience with delicate negotiations."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." The Air Force officer nodded with a faint smile.

"We'll leave Major Lorne in command until we get back." Weir stood, "Gentleman."

Sheppard stood, and Caldwell came to attention.

"That's unnecessary." Weir smiled, "But thank you."

**

* * *

**

Cally's head was pounding and her mouth was dry. She opened her eyes a fraction, then closed them tight again: wherever she was, she wasn't on the _Galactica,_ and that was bad.

"Ah, you're awake then I see." A soft, friendly voice with a strange accent came from across the room, "You took a nasty bump on your head there; had me a little worried."

Cally remained as still as she could, hardly even daring to breath.

"There's no need to be afraid; no one here is going to hurt you." The voice tried to reassure her, and she could see a shadow fall over her through her eyelids, "My name is Dr Carson Becket. Can you tell me what you're name is, lass?"

"Petty Officer 2nd Class Cally Tyrol, 456-468-BSG75, Colonial Fleet." The young woman responded, trying to remain as calm as she could, but ready to fight or run, if the opportunity arose.

"Cally, do you mind if I call you Cally?" Becket asked, "Can you open you eyes for me, please Cally? I want to make sure there are no signs of a concussion."

Cally opened her eyes slowly, and a bright light was shone in first one, then the other. She blinked a few times, then looked up at the man standing over her; he didn't look like any of the Cylons she'd seen on New Caprica, but that didn't mean anything. He was dressed in the same kind of white coat that doctor Cottle used, but there were unfamiliar patches on the shoulder. She looked round: the room was large, filled with what looked like medical equipment, but there were others things she couldn't identify.

"Where am I?" She asked, "How did I get here?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you where we are; it's a very closely guarded secret." Becket picked up a tablet-PC and started to tap away at the touch-sensitive screen, "And as for how you got here, all I know is that one of our off-world teams found you. I'm afraid that they were in too much of a hurry to tell me anything more than that..."

Cally erupted from the bed like a coiled spring, knocking Becket aside, despite the difference between their size and build. She looked around for anything that could be used as a weapon, and saw a scalpel lying on a nearby tray. Grabbing it, she lunged at Becket, managing to get her other hand around his neck before he had a chance to react.

"Fracking Cylon!" She held the blade against his throat, "How do I get out of here?"

"Well, first off you could put the knife down..." Becket suggested, then stopped when he felt the tip of the blade press against his skin, "Or not, if that make you feel better." He raised his hands slowly, "Look, no one is going to hurt you, but there's nowhere for you to go..."

Cally pulled the knife away, then pushed the doctor forward with all her strength. He flew forward until he hit the bed she'd been laying on, and fell over it, landing in a heap on the floor. The young NCO ran for the door, and it opened before her to reveal a rather startled looking tall, dark haired woman. Cally lashed out with the scalpel, forcing the woman to back out of the way to avoid getting slashed across the face.

Seeing a momentary opening, Cally dived forward, aiming for anther open door leading to a hallway beyond. But two men in military uniforms and carrying strange looking pistols stood in her way. They levelled their weapons at her, fingers tightening on the trigger.

"No!" Becket called from the other doorway, and the two guards paused long enough for Cally to get her feet back under her and back into the corner, brandishing the scalpel, but looking like a very scared little girl.

"Carson?" Weir asked, "I see that our guest is awake."

"Aye, you can say that again." The Doctor nodded, holding one hand against the small cut on his throat, "She's seems a wee bit agitated."

"I never would have guessed." Weir replied dryly, before taking a step towards Cally, her arms held out wide and open to show that she wasn't carrying anything that could be considered a weapon, "My name is Dr Elizabeth Weir; I'm in charge around here."

"Fracking Cylon bitch!" Cally snarled, "This another one of your little games? Like you did to Starbuck?"

"I assure you that I have no idea what a Cylon is, and the only Starbuck I know is a chain of coffee shops based out of Seattle." Weir kept her voice calm and even, "You were brought her because, well, there was an incident involving one of our expedition teams; shots were exchanged, and you were stunned."

"Well if you're not Cylons, and I know every ship in the fleet, and we're not one of them, where are we?" Cally asked, her eyes still wide with terror.

"You're in a city called Atlantis." Weir explained, deciding that she had nothing to lose by telling the truth, "Although some people know it as the City of the Ancestors."

"Never heard of it." Cally spat.

"Let me show you." Weir gestured for the two guards to step away from the door, and they slowly complied, "No one is going to hurt you. Just follow me."

Eyes darting around the room, Cally slowly started to follow the other woman out of the door and down the hallway beyond. They passed through another door, and came to a balcony on the side of the main tower.

"This is Atlantis." Weir explained to an awe-struck Cally, "We discovered it almost two years ago when we uncovered an outpost built on our world by a race we call The Ancients." She gently rested a hand on the younger woman's shoulder, "You're safe here, but we need to know what has happened to one of our people."

**

* * *

**

McKay gasped as the bucked of cold water was flung into his face, waking him instantly. He tried to move, but found he was tied securely to a chair that seemed to be bolted to the floor. Looking around, all he could see were dull, grey metal walls, and a blond woman looking at him across the small table.

"I'm glad to see you're awake." She looked at him coldly, "My name is Captain Thrace, and I'll be conducting your interrogation."

"What?" McKay blinked, "Who are you? Where am I? What happened?"

"I'll be asking the questions." Starbuck sat back in her seat, resting her feet on the table, "So, what do you call yourself?"

"Doctor Rodney McKay." The scientist looked around the room for any clues as to what was happening, "Where are we?"

"Pretend you don't know." Starbuck sneered, "I don't believe I've seen one of your kind before. Then again, I spent most of my time during the occupation of New Caprica locked in a mock up of my old apartment with another of your kind."

"look, lady, I have no idea what're talking about." McKay started to hyperventilate, "My name is Doctor Rodney McKay; I'm an astrophysicist. I have never heard of a place called New Caprica, let alone been there..."

"**_SHUT THE FRACK UP!_**" Starbuck jumped to her feet, "I know you're a Cylon, so there's no point denying it. The only question is, how far do I have to go to get the information we want?"

"What information?" McKay looked at her, "All you've done is throw ice water at me and ask me what my name is. I have absolutely no idea what's going on; the last thing I remember is running down a hillside with somebody shooting at me! No I have been in way too many situations like this the past few years to fall for your tough-guy act, so if you don't start telling me what the hell is going on, I'm just going to sit here until my friends come looking for me. And believe me, they will!"

"The Cylon fleet is on its way?" Starbuck asked, leaning over the table.

"What are you, deaf?" McKay snapped back, "I have no idea what a Cylon is, let alone where their fleet is headed!"

**

* * *

**

"Could he be telling the truth?" President Roslin asked, watching the video feed from the next room, "Could he be human?"

"I don't recognise him." Athena shrugged, "He Could be a new model, or one of the Final Five, but I've never seen him before."

"The Final Five?" Adama asked, "Who or what are they?"

"You're already aware that there are twelve types of human-like Cylons; for instance, I'm a number Eight." the young Lieutenant explained, "The Final Five are, different: their identities have been deliberately withheld from the other seven. It's something that we are not encouraged to talk about, but I personally believe that they are deep-cover sleeper agents, their names and faces hidden from the rest of my people so that we don't accidentally give them away by how we react around them. Like Boomer, they probably don't know that their Cylons."

"So there could be more infiltrators in the fleet?" Roslin stood with her hands on her hips, "And you were going to tell us this when?"

"What more could I possibly tell you than I just have? They exist, and there is no way to tell them apart from anyone else." Athena turned to look at Adama, "Sir, I know I have withheld information in the past, but you know how importantly I hold the trust you placed in me, how proud I was when you let me take my oath as a Colonial Officer. I have made my decision, under no outside influence: I will stand we the people of this fleet against the Cylons, and give my life to defend them. And if I am killed, and then resurrected, do you honestly think that they will welcome me back with open arms? I have burned all my bridges, turned my back on everything I was, in order to be here."

"And I for one trust you, and thank you for all you've done for us." Adama nodded, then turned to face Roslin, "The Lieutenant's loyalty is not in question. What is is who and what our prisoner is."

"That is indeed the main question." The President looked at the screen again, "The other question is, how far do we let Captain Thrace go in order to find out?"

**To Be Continued...**


	3. Extraordinary Rendition

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 3: Extraordinary Rendition**

Cally felt slightly more at ease the ship she'd heard referred to as the _Daedalus_: what little she had seen of it reminded her of the _Galactica. _The crew seemed a little weary of her, but she put that down to how little information she had given them. In part, it was because deep down she couldn't shake the feeling that it was all some Cylon trick. On the other hand, she was a knuckle-dragger, and the situation was way, way outside her area of expertise and authority. As it was, she found herself sitting in what appeared to be the ships mess hall, the two guards assigned to watch her standing against the nearby wall, weapons holstered.

"And how are you feeling today?" Becket sat down opposite her, a steaming mug of tea in his hand.

"Better, all things considered." Cally shrugged slightly, "I miss my son."

"Well, we're be back at the planet we found you in a few hours." The Doctor smiled, "Hopefully it won't take too long to get you back together. Elizabeth is very good at defusing tense situations."

"I just hope the fleet hasn't left..." Cally looked round as the ship shuddered ever so slightly, "What was that?"

"Feels like we've dropped out of hyperspace." Becket looked at his watch, "Maybe Colonel Caldwell pushed the engines a little harder than anticipated..."

Alarm klaxon's started going off, and the crew erupted from their seats, rushing to their duty stations.

"Oh this can not be good." The doctor looked around, unsure what he was supposed to do, "I'm going to head for the infirmary; I think it would be best if you came with me."

**

* * *

**

The _Daedalus'_ command deck was a scene out of pandemonium as the crew tried to come to terms with what their sensors showed: more than half a dozen ships of unknown origin where sitting in orbit of the planet that McKay had last been seen on, in a much higher orbit than the unknown warship that had been encountered by Sheppard's team. The way they were set out, with a number of strangely elegant star-shaped ships seemingly guarding a much larger, blockier ship.

"This can not be good." Caldwell gripped the arms if his chair subconsciously, "Well doctor, you're up."

"Thank you." Weir nodded, "Open a channel, please."

"Open." The communications officer nodded.

"This is Dr Elizabeth Weir on board the USS _Daedalus_." The expedition leader took a step forward, "We mean no harm: we are looking for one of our team-mates who went missing on the planet below."

Nobody dared move as they waited patiently for a reply.

"_This is Admiral William Adama, commander of the Colonial Battlestar_ Galactica." A gruff voice answered, "_Maintain your current position or we will fire upon you_."

"I assure you, Admiral, that our intentions are not hostile." Weir took a deep breath, "In fact, we'd like to return one of your people to you; Cally Tyrol."

"_She's alive?_" Adama asked after a moments hesitation.

"Alive and unharmed." Weir smiled; the change in tone indicated that the Admiral cared about those under his command, "If you give me a moment to find out where she is, you can speak to her."

"_That would be appreciated, but we have a lot to deal with right now_." There was a hushed conversation on the other end, "_It would probably be best if you remained where you are_..."

"_This is Dr Gaius Baltar, speaking on behalf of the Cylon fleet_." A new voice broke into the conversation, speaking in what sounded to Weir as an approximation of an English accent, "_Well, this is unexpected._"

Weir froze; Cally had send next to nothing about her people, but the way she had used the word 'Cylon' like it was the worst curse imaginable had her worried. The last thing the Atlantis expedition needed was to be drawn into another war not of their making. As to where the rest of the fleet Sheppard had reported was, she had no idea.

"_This is Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol_." A third voice appeared out of nowhere, "_I think it might be better if we continue this discussion face to face_."

"Agreed." Weir nodded, "Just tell us when and where."

**

* * *

**

"Now that's more what I'm talking about." Starbuck smiled as her _Viper_ came in on the port wing of one of the two wedge shaped fighters escorting the transport launched by the mysterious _Daedalus_: it reminded her somewhat of the old-style Cylon raider, but was about half the size and she could see only two occupants through the cockpit canopy. They were wearing old-style flight suits and helmets, complete with face-covering oxygen masks: whoever these strangers where, they seemed to have a strange mix of advanced and antiquated technology.

She looked out the other side of her own cockpit and saw the Heavy Raider carrying the Cylon delegation. She quit literally knew the ship inside and out, but it was still a menacing, foreboding shape that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine.

The looming entrance to the _Galactica's_ landing pod approached and the two unknown fighters peeled off from their escort positions, pulling more g-forces than any human could possibly take as they reversed coarse back towards the _Daedalus._ Starbuck felt a pang of envy: there was no way that even a Mk VII _Viper_ could pull that sort of move, let alone the old Mk II she'd been stuck with since the _Galactica's_ original squadron had been blown out of the sky at the start of the second human/Cylon war.

With grace and ease that should have been impossible for a craft its size, the small transport came to rest dead-centre on the illuminated landing pad and was immediately lowered into the airlock. Starbuck landed her _Viper_, and waited for the magnetic tract system to pull her to the first available lift and pulled her down into the hanger deck. She cleared the airlock just in time to see the entire deck crew cheer as Cally ran into her husbands arms.

She felt another pang of envy: it had been a very long time since she'd been that close to her own husband.

Climbing down out of her cockpit, she got her first good look at the newcomers as they stood at the bottom of the ramp leading up to their ship. In front stood a man of about her hight with a mop of unruly black hair and a slightly lopsided grin on his face. The undisciplined look was countered by his eyes; they were scanning the room, already taking not of the sharp-shooters hidden on the upper walkway, and the guns rather badly hidden under the jackers of some 'deck hands'.

Next was a slender woman of about the same hight, with more managed hair. She was dressed in the same formless jumpsuit as her companion, but it was a different colour and was missing the odd-looking pistol holstered at the hip. Based on the fact that she was the only woman in the group, Starbuck assumed that she was Dr Weir.

Standing slightly in the shadows was a much taller and more well built man with darker skin. His shoulder length hair was collected into a series of dreadlocks, and he had a well trimmed beard and moustache. Unlike the other two, he was dressed in a black leather waistcoat like top and matching leather trousers. A odd, knife-like tooth hung on a cord around his neck, and he carried a large pistol on his hip. His eyes were even harder than the first man's, and she felt them bore into her soul, forcing her to look away.

"Dr Weir, I presume?" Apollo walked up to them, "Major Lee Adama; I'm _Galactica's_ CAG, and the President asked me to escort you to the briefing room."

"Thank you, Major." The woman nodded, "Please, lead on."

**

* * *

**

Athena stood at ease outside the briefing room, trying to calm her nerves: she hadn't really come face-to-face with her own kind since New Caprica, if you ignored the time they encountered a dying Basestar. While she was truly dedicated to her position on board the _Galactica's_, there was a part of her that would always be a Cylon, no matter how well the rest of the crew accepted her. She could never leave the ship, for fear of how the civilian population would react.

The sound of combat boots marching across the metal deck snapped her out of her daydream, and she looked up in time to see the delegates arrive. None of them were Cylons, and as Apollo was leading them, she assumed that they had to be from the _Daedalus_. Coming sharply to attention before the CAG, she knocked on the hatch, and it swung open to revel the ship's XO, his one hard eye examining everything.

"Well?" He asked the young Lieutenant bluntly.

"They're human." Athena nodded, and Tigh stood aside to let them enter the conference room.

The door hadn't even closed when the second delegation arrived, and Athena's eyes went wide when she saw the Number Eight with them.

"That her," She nodded towards the mirror image, "that's Boomer."

"The one who shot the Old Man?" Tigh sneered, "Well, you just lost your visiting privileges." He turned to the marines, "Keep her here until we're done."

The other Cylons just nodded their consent as they filed into the conference room, followed closely by former Colonial President Gaius Baltar, leaving the two Eights outside with most of the marines.

**

* * *

**

McKay heard the footsteps approaching his cell and moaned: he'd only just gotten to sleep after his last interrogation session, and his body was still protesting.

"What?" He asked, not even opening his eyes, "What more could you possibly want to ask me?"

"_Daedalus_." Starbuck asked, "Mean anything to you?"

"The _Daedalus_?" the scientist sat up, "The _Daedalus_ is here?"

"Time to go." The Colonial pilot opened the cell door.

**

* * *

**

Apollo led the delegation from the _Daedalus_ to their seats, then looked round in time to see the Cylon's enter the room. He felt the urge to draw his side-arm and kill Baltar on sight, but he was able to pull his emotions in and locked them away behind his sense of duty. The last thing he wanted to do was embarrass his father or President Roslin, the two people who's opinion mattered most to him. Instead he studded the Cylons, trying to guess their reaction to the other guests: finding humans this far from the Twelve Colonies had been unexpected to say the least, but what little he'd learned failed to indicate where they were from. He'd also been surprised to see the word Pegasus written on Dr Weir's uniform: it was a surprising reminder of his former command.

The other door opened, admitting Admiral Adama and President Roslin. Apollo, Tigh and the Guards came to attention sharply.

"Dr Weir; a pleasure to meet you." Roslin nodded to the three people standing to her right, "My I introduce Admiral William Adama and Colonel Saul Tigh."

"It is an unexpected honour to be here, Madam President." Weir nodded, "My I introduce Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard and Ronon Dex."

"Howdy." Sheppard smiled, while Ronon just nodded.

"You always were good with first impressions." Baltar smiled at the President, "It's good to see you again, Laura. You too, Admiral..."

"The less he talks, the better." Roslin looked out over the top of her glasses at her former vice-president.

"Gaius, be quit." Six looked at her lover, then turned to face Weir, "Well, I think it would be an understatement to say that we are surprised to see you and your ship. Would you mind telling us all where you're from?"

"Yes, we would mind." Weir countered, "We've found it best to keep such information on a strictly need-to-know basis, and I don't think anyone in this room needs to know. At least, not until we've seen Dr McKay."

"He should be here soon." Adama nodded, "Perhaps we should all be seated?"

"Agreed." Roslin agreed, "Please, take your seats."

Weir sat in the middle of one side of the large, u-shaped table, flanked protectively by Sheppard and Ronon. The Cylons sat opposite, Six squeezing Baltar's shoulder as she stepped past him.

"First of all, I'd like to clear up what happened on the planet below." Weir looked at the other delegates, feeling strangely at home, "We regret what happened; we would much rather have had a more peaceful first-contact between our civilisations. But I trust that our treatment of your crewman will have proven to you that it was all a regrettable misunderstanding..."

Adama looked at Roslin, who shifted uncomfortably in her seat for a moment before the door facing her opened again to admit Starbuck, followed by two marines who were half carrying McKay between them. The scientists bottom lip was cut and swollen, and a large bruise was forming around his left eye. His uniform had been replaced with a orange jumpsuit, similar to that used at some prisons on Earth.

"My God!" Weir stood, "Rodney?"

"Hello Elizabeth." McKay did his best to sound normal, but the way that he was waving slightly from side to side spoke volumes, "Funny running into you here."

Sheppard was out of his seat in a heartbeat, startling the guards as he ran to his team mates side, catching him just as he started to fall.

" Elizabeth..." Sheppard looked at the expedition leader.

"I'm on it." Weir activated the radio link still attached to her ear, "Weir to Hermiod; can you get a lock on Dr McKay?"

"Indeed." The Asgardian engineer confirmed.

"Then transport him immediately to the _Daedalus'_ infirmary." Weir glared at Roslin as a beam of light enveloped McKay, much to the amazement of the rooms other occupants. "Just so you know; we can leave any time we want, and there's not a damned thing any of you can do about it."

**To Be Continued...**


	4. The Fine Art Of Negotiation

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 4: The Fine Art Of Negotiation**

"Rodney?" Becket gasped as his friend appeared in the middle of the infirmary and promptly collapsed. He rushed over to the still form, "Rodney; say something."

"Hello Carson." McKay smiled weakly, "I see the gangs all here."

"Try not to move." Becket motioned for a pair of orderlies to lift the scientist onto an examination table, "Can you tell me what happened?"

"Oh, you know, the usual." McKay winced, "Met a pretty girl, started talking, and she shoved my head into a bucket of ice water. Same old, same old."

"My God." Becket opened the orange jumpsuit, revealing a patchwork of bruises across the other man's body, "And Cally seemed such a nice young lass..."

"Story of my life." McKay sighed as the painkillers on of the nurses had given him started to take effect, "Someone else always gets the nice one..."

**

* * *

**

"What?" Six blinked, unable to comprehend what she'd seen, "Where did he go?"

"Back to the _Daedalus_." Weir examined the other woman closely, trying to work out just who's side she should be on, "Thanks to some help from some friends of ours."

"You must have some interesting friends." Adama mused.

"You'd be surprised." Sheppard replayed coolly as he returned to his seat, "So what exactly did Rodney do to deserve that? I of all people know he can be more than a little annoying at times..."

"It's in their nature." The Cavil in the Cylon delegation shrugged, "They decided to play God, create life, us. When we turned against them, they comforted themselves in the knowledge that it really wasn't their fault, not really. But you cannot play God and then wash your hands of the things that you've created. Sooner or later..."

"...the day comes when you can't hide from the things that you've done any more." Adama finished for him, "Yes, I do remember making that speech, but that was before you murdered, slaughtered, billions on the Colonies!"

"Humanity wages war." Six smiled, "It seems only right and proper that we, its children, continue the tradition."

Sheppard coughed, and the Cylon and Colonial delegations turned to look at the three visitors, having almost forgotten that they were there.

"Sorry about that." The Air Force officer smiled, "You were saying?"

"Now may not be the best time or place to go over everything." Roslin smiled tensely, "Until we know where you're from and just what you're intentions are..."

"Where we are from is irrelevant," Weir countered, "and, right now, my intentions are to leave the lot of you to pound each other into the dirt." She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, "But that is not in anyone's best interest: I have spent my entire life trying to get opposing sides to seas reason where others have failed, and I'm pretty damn good at it if I do say so myself. So maybe if one of you could explain, slowly and calmly, just what has happened, I'll be able to help."

**

* * *

**

"You wanted to see me?" Caldwell walked into _Daedalus'_ engine room.

"Yes, Colonel." Hermiod nodded, "I have detected several attempts to gain access to our systems by an outside force."

"Have they gotten in?" The ship's CO asked, understandably worried.

"No, they have not." The Asgardian engineer answered smugly, "After our encounter with the Wraith AI-virus, I was able to convince the Asgard High Council to let me install more advanced security programs."

"We got an upgrade and no body told be about it?" Caldwell blinked, slightly taken aback.

"It was mentioned in one of Dr Novak's status reports." Hermiod tilted his head to the side, "I take it that you do read them all?"

"Almost all of them." Caldwell admitted sheepishly, "So, we're safe from any incursions?"

"Indeed we are." Hermiod nodded smugly, "Our firewalls are as strong as those found on an Asgard _Daniel Jackson_ class science vessel."

"What does a guy have to do to get an entire class of ship named after him?" Caldwell asked, jokingly.

"More than you have." Hermiod replied curtly.

**

* * *

**

"Well, that was, informative." Weir looked a little startled after having been given the condensed Colonial/Cylon history, "It is certainly one of the strangest things I've ever heard, and that is saying a lot in my job."

"It is an, unpleasant history." Six admitted, "But we are willing to let them go on their way: all we want is the Temple of Five and the Eye of Jupiter."

"You honestly think we're going to give you another clue to the location of Earth?" Adama asked, "After what you did to twelve of our Tribes, do you really think we'd hand any information about the location of the Thirteenth to you?"

"We don't want to destroy the Thirteenth Tribe." Cavil shrugged, "We see them as our one chance to live in harmony with our creators, as equals. But in order to do that, we would need to do so without your, interference."

"So, you believe that you could co-exist peacefully with the humans of Earth?" Weir asked, doing her best to keep her voice calm and level, "Just so long as they don't know what you did? Or at least, if they got your side of the story first?"

"Basically, yes." Six nodded.

"Interesting; very interesting." Sheppard looked at Weir, who just nodded. He smiled as he stood, "Hi; my names John Sheppard, and I'm from Earth."

**

* * *

**

"Well, apart from a bump on the head, you're in near perfect health." Dr Cottle took a step back, lighting up one of his cigarettes, "I've found no sign of any pathogens or poisons in your bloodstream, or anything that looks like Cylon technology."

"So I'm going to be okay?" Cally asked, sighing with relief, "Thank the Gods."

"I think you'll probably outlive us all." Cottle smiled softly, "I think you're husband and son are waiting for you outside."

Cally all but jumped down off of the table and ran to the hatch, opening the heavy metal door and stepping out into the hallway beyond. Chief Tyrol was waiting outside, holding their son cradled in their arms. Her smiled deepened into a grin as she embraced them both.

"So?" Tyrol asked, "What did Cottle say?"

"I'm fine." Cally smiled, "Perfectly fine."

**

* * *

**

"Dr Becket?" One of the other doctors appeared at the side of McKay's bed, "The last test results from our guest; you might want to take a look."

"Thank you." The Atlantis CMO nodded, flipping through the chart, "My god..."

"What?" McKay asked, "What is it?"

"It's Cally." Becket looked up, "She has the ATA gene."

**

* * *

**

Sheppard's words hung over the room like the legendary sword of Damocles, silencing everyone else. Roslin and Starbuck both felt a sinking feeling in the pit of their stomachs when they realised just what they had done, while Adama could only sit, jaw agape, at the prospect of having actually found people from a planet he had never truly believed in.

Weir looked across at the Cylons delegation: while the Cylons themselves were just sitting there, trying to process the information, Baltar seemed to be crying. She couldn't tell if they were tears of joy or sorrow, but they seemed to be genuine.

"You're...you're from Earth?" Adama found his voice first, but remained slightly sceptical, "Can you prove it?"

"Can you prove anything you've said here today?" Weir countered, "The only way we could prove we are from Earth would be to take you there, and I'm still not convinced that that would be such a good idea: we have enemies enough of our own to deal with without adding anyone else to the list."

"Yeah: hate to tell you guys this, but you're not the biggest, baddest kids on the block." Sheppard leaned back in his seat, "I mean, take a look at Dr McKay: he may not look like much, but he once destroyed three-quarters of a solar system, and that was by accident.

"I thought it was only five-sixths?" Ronon looked up.

"Semantics." Sheppard shrugged, "And his still got a long way to go before he beats the all-time record set by the then Major Carter, who sent an entire star into supernova."

Weir took a moment to examine the faces of everyone else round the table: they were looking at Sheppard and Ronon with a mix of awe and disbelief. She knew full well that they were giving away to many clues as to the extent of their technological superiority, but anything that strengthened their position was a bonus. What remained most important, now that they'd gotten McKay back, was the Ancient Outpost on the planet below. If it did hold a non-depleted ZPM, then it was worth getting to. But the Cylons knew of its existence, and seemed intent on getting there first.

Thankfully, Caldwell had planned ahead, and all they needed to do was keep everyone's attentions away from the Temple of Five for a few more hours.

"We should remain on topic." Weir looked at the other two delegations, "As said, we have no interest in getting involved in another war. We are, however, willing to act as an intermediary to help broker a ceasefire between your respective peoples."

"Will you let our people journey to Earth?" Roslin asked, "We have no place else to go."

"That decision would have to be made by my superiors." Weir shook her head, "But I do not see it happening: very few people on our world know of the existence of life on other planets. Allowing the remnant of your civilisation to even approach Earth could spark world-wide panic and fighting. But I am sure that we could find a relatively safe world were you could settle; somewhere near enough to Earth that we could help you rebuild."

"And us?" Six asked.

"Again, that decision would have to be made by my superiors." Weir turned to face the Cylons, "I am not in a position to pass judgement; it isn't my right, and I lack the necessary facts. But I do not see our governments actively seeking retaliation: this is not the first time we have found ourselves drawn between two warring factions, and we normally try and refrain from interfering. But I will have to contact my superiors before I can make any promises."

"Then I suggest we adjourn until tomorrow." Adama looked around the room, "We all have a lot to take in."

"I agree." Weir nodded, "We'll return to the _Daedalus_ and send word back to our superiors."

"We shall also retire." Six nodded, "It has been an, informative day."

**

* * *

**

"How strong is the gene?" McKay asked, looking over his friends shoulder.

"Not very." Becket shook his head, "About the same level I have."

"But still, it's there." McKay started to pace back and forth, the pain killers filling his body allowing him to ignore the pain, at least to an extent, "That means that there must have been some contact between their culture and the Ancients. Now, if the database is correct, and there was some kind of colony set up, away from the Wraith, with a human population, than there is every possibility that a certain amount of inter-breading took place before it was abandoned and the Ancients fled back to Atlantis."

"In the same way that those who survived to return to Earth through the Stargate inter-bred with our ancient ancestors." Becket cocked his head to the side, "Well, MY ancient ancestors..."

"We can't all win the genetic lottery." McKay waved off the comment, "What we need to do is find out if the Ancients might have left anything else behind."

**

* * *

**

"Do you believe them?" Adama asked, once inside the sanctuary of his quarters, "That they are from Earth?"

"I don't disbelieve them, if that's what you're asking." Roslin sat down, letting the stress flow out of her body, "But there has to be something else; their holding something back."

"We all are." The Admiral nodded as he sat behind his desk, "I've ask Lee to debrief Cally Tyrol: I want to know just what she saw and heard while among them."

"She's a bright kid; observant." the President smiled, but then frowned, "But they are likely to react negatively to our treatment of their team mate: that could course problems."

"Maybe, but I'd like to think not." Adama put on his glasses and scanned the handful of reports on his desk, "She reminds me a little of my father: he had the same sense of right and wrong that I see in her eyes."

**

* * *

**

"I want up back on the _Daedalus_ as soon as possible." Weir was already hunched over her laptop by the time the Puddle Jumper had cleared _Galactica's_ flight pod, "But don't go too fast: I don't want them to think we're running away."

"Fast, but not too fast." Sheppard looked over to Ronon, "No problem."

"Their hiding something." The big Setedan looked straight ahead, "I don't trust them."

"You hardly trust anyone." Sheppard countered, "But in this case, I agree: they're hiding something."

"Everyone lies." Weir didn't even look up from her computer, "The innocent lie because they don't want to be blamed for something they didn't do, and the guilty lie because they don't have any other choice."

"True." Sheppard conceded, "But they did put Rodney through the ringer: I know he can be a bit annoying at times, but even he didn't deserve that."

"I know it's no excuse, but they have even less reason to trust us." Weir sighed, "I'm going to have Atlantis send my report through to the International Oversight Advisory: it's about time they earned their pay."

**To Be Continued...**


	5. The Wounds We Can Not See

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 5: The Wounds We Can Not See**

"You can relax; this is just an informal debriefing." Apollo sat on one side of a table set up in a normally disused storage room, "We just want you do go over, in your own words, what happened from the moment you first encountered the, others."

"Dee, Lieutenant Adama, told me to run." Cally sat across the table, trying her best to remember what had happened, "There where gunshots, and I saw something red hit a tree, but it didn't look like a bullet strike. Then something hit me in the back, right here." She reached round to between her shoulder blades, "I remember tripping, but not hitting the ground."

"That's okay; no one expects you to remember everything." Apollo smiled softly, "What about when you woke up?"

"It was kind of like being hungover; my head was pounding, and my mouth was so dry." The young NCO closed her eyes, "I was in a small room, about the size of the squadron briefing room, but with a much higher celling. I knew it wasn't on the _Galactica_: I know the ship too well for that, but there was something about the design that seemed familiar. A man, Carson Becket; one of their doctors, told me that I'd hit my head, and had been taken there so they could make sure I was okay. He didn't seem to know what was going on, but he was kind and softly spoken. He had an odd accent, kind of like Dr Baltar, but not quite the same. He had some kind of computer that he was writing on, and I got scared that he might be a Cylon."

"Did he at any time give any indication that he might be a Cylon?" Apollo asked, "Did you see anyone you recognised during your time among them?"

"No; there were a lot of people there, and entire city." Cally shook her head, "Dr Weir told me it was called Atlantis..."

"Atlantis?" Gaeta looked up from the pad he was using to keep a record of what was said, "Did you just say Atlantis?"

"That's what she called it." Cally nodded, "I only got one good view of it; we were near the top of a very tall building, looking out over other towers leading down to the sea."

"By the Lords of Kobol!" Gaeta turned to Apollo, "Sir, there are some references among the sacred scrolls about a city named Atlantis that sank beneath the sea. I can't remember the exact quote, but I know that it has something to do with the Exodus from Kobol. I came across it while researching anything that might give us a clue to the location of Earth."

"It's definitely something worth looking into." Apollo nodded, before turning back to Cally, "Did they give any clue to being from Earth?"

"Dr Weir did say that discovered Atlantis two years ago," the young NCO nodded, "something about discovering an outpost on their home world." She hesitated, "But she said it had been left by a race they called 'the Ancients'. I never once heard anyone mention the Lords of Kobol."

"They may have forgotten their heritage." Apollo shrugged, "Or, as scientists, they might be atheists."

**

* * *

**

"Carson; just the man I was hoping to run into." Weir smiled as she rounded the corner and saw the Scottish doctor, "How's Rodney?"

"Well, he's got some cuts and bruises, a few cracked ribs, but nothing that won't heal over time." Becket nodded, falling in step beside her, "But emotionally is another matter: he's been through a very traumatic experience. Oh, sure, he's putting a brave face on it know; you know Rodney, but no one can go through what he has without it leaving some lasting physiological damage."

"Post traumatic stress?" Weir asked as they reached the _Daedalus'_ bridge.

"It's a distinct possibility." Becket nodded, "I'm going to ask Dr Heightmeyer to talk with him once we get back to Atlantis; it's more her area."

"Forward all your notes to her as soon as you finish writing them up." Weir nodded, "I want to give her as much of a head start on this as possible: Rodney's too important to the expedition to risk loosing over something like this."

"I hope that's not the only reason you're worried about him." Becket stopped dead in his tracks, "I know that he might not be the easiest person to get on with all the time, but he's a good man, and no one deserves to go through what they did to him..."

"Carson! Carson!" Weir held her hands up to stop him mid rant, "I know that Dr McKay is your friend; I'm sort of fond of him myself, in a fashion. So believe me when I tell you that I will do everything in my power to make sure that those responsible for his condition are brought to justice."

"I'd personally like to give them a demonstration of what the _Daedalus_ can do." Caldwell looked over from his seat, "But something tells me you're not about to let me do that."

"Not right now, no." The expedition leader shook her head, "In fact, I'm not sure what to do, apart from have Atlantis transmit a request for instructions to Earth."

"I couldn't agree more." Caldwell nodded, "But even if they manage to come to a quick decision, it would still take more than a fortnight for either the _Prometheus_ or _Odyssey_ to get here with a message, unless we open another wormhole, and that means using the ZPM."

"Truth be told, I was planning on requesting at least one of them being sent here as backup." Weir sighed, "If things go bad, we could find ourselves rapidly outnumbered."

"Another ship would be useful." Caldwell agreed, "We've picked up several attempts to hack our systems emanating from the Cylon ships. Hermiod seems convinced that the Asgard firewalls and anti-viral programs he's installed will keep them out, but I'd rather not tempt fate."

"I'll bring it up tomorrow." Weir nodded, "Meanwhile, I have to go finish my report so it can be transmitted to Atlantis."

**

* * *

**

"Atlantis is nothing more than a myth, a fable." Roslin shook her head, "The story goes that there was once a land of immense power and knowledge. But the people there grew arrogant, and were struck down, the city sinking beneath the waves during an immanence storm. It's a morality tale: no one is above the Gods."

"Then it could be that they named the city after the myth." Adama rubbed his chin, "While they may have forgotten, lost, their knowledge of the Lords of Kobol, some small references might remain."

"If they've forgotten their past, it might make things harder." The President started pacing back and forth, "I've gone over the records from the meeting, and what Petty Officer Tyrol said in her debriefing, and there are some alarming differences in out socialites."

"I'm more worried about these 'Ancients' they mentioned." Adama pulled out a copy of the debriefing transcripts, "It could be their name for the Lords of Kobol, but it doesn't sound like hey were talking about religious figures. In fact, Dr Weir referred to them as, and I quote, 'a race we call The Ancients'." He looked over the top of his glasses at Roslin, "That sounds vaguely like they think of them as another peoples, somewhat like we talk about Sagittarons and Aerelons."

"That might make some sence." Roslin nodded, "If they are from Earth, then they are descended of just one tribe, while each of our Colonies were founded by a different tribe. Until Caprica regained interplanetary flight, we only had the sacred scrolls to tell us of the other tribes of man."

"That may be true, but I think it might be best if we try and down-play the religious side of things, at least for the time being." The Admiral sat back in his chair, "Religion has been the cause of too many wars in our history, and we are not in a position to start one now."

"True, true." The President stopped pacing and sat down, "Has Mr Gaeta had any luck going over the artefacts we recovered?"

"Very little; he says it's made of some unknown mineral with some truly staggering proprieties." Adama leafed through the paperwork on his desk until he found the appropriate report, "It seems to have been built to be left in orbit, and there are no obvious controls on the outside. His current hypothesis is that it was activated by the coded pulses sent by the transport pod. He also noted that preliminary dating put it at anywhere between forty and fifty million years old."

"By the Lords of Kobol." Roslin blinked, "What about the items found in the Temple of Five?"

"You mean these?" Adama lifted a box onto his desk and pulled out two large, dark brown crystal like objects, "They seemed to be attached the the main alter, but it had been smashed by a rock that fell from above. What they are and why they were left behind is anyone's guess."

**

* * *

**

"The situation is more complex than we first imagined." Cavil looked around the circle of a assembled Cylons: one of each of the seven types stood around him, along with Baltar, "If these strangers are from Earth, we need consensus: do we destroy the _Galactica_ once and for all, or do we take the moral high ground?"

"Weir is a moral person." Six nodded, "At least, as far as that can be said for a human."

"We concur." Boomer nodded, "The Colonials have done much to anger them."

"They know our past transgressions, but we have not acted against them." Three agreed, "From what was said, they have seen much war in their history; we might be able to use that against them."

"I know it's not my place to say this, but I think you need to tread carefully." Baltar spoke up for the first time since returning from the _Galactica_, "Dr Weir comes across as a career diplomat; something none of you have any experience dealing with, I do."

"And you recommend?" Leoben asked.

"We need to get her away from Adama and Roslin." The former Colonial President explained, "The two of them are too charismatic: given enough time, they would turn Weir and her people against us. But they are also ruthless, and that we can use to our advantage."

"Their treatment of the prisoner." Simon nodded, "That angered Weir and her companions into revealing their matter transportation capability."

"Humans can be driven by their anger." Six nodded her agreement, "While they may not like our past actions, they are in the past: the injuries Dr McKay suffered are here and now."

"Kara." Leoben smiled, "She has quite the temper."

"We can use that to drive a wedge between them." Cavil agreed, "But we must stop our attempts to gain access to the _Daedalus'_ computer systems."

"It has proved futile so far." Three nodded, "And they may look upon it as a hostile act."

"Then we are in agreement?" Simon asked the group, all of whom nodded, "By your command."

**

* * *

**

"Rodney?" Sheppard made his way across the _Daedalus'_ mess, "Shouldn't you be in bed, resting?"

"No time to sleep." McKay shook his head, not even looking up from the laptop he was hunched over, "Got work to catch up on."

"You've been through a lot." Sheppard sat down on the opposite side of the table, "No one would blame you for taking a few days off..."

"I'm perfectly fine." McKay grabbed a steaming mug of black coffee and took a huge swig, "Carson released me from the infirmary hours ago."

"He probably thought you were going to go get some sleep." Sheppard looked at the large collection of empty coffee cups scattered around his team-mate, "Not that that's going o be likely for a while."

"The human body can go several days without sleep, as you full well know." McKay snapped, "Now if you don't mind, I'm busy."

"I just think you should get some rest." The Air Force officer tried to pull the computer away from the scientist, but it was snatched away from him.

"**WHAT?**" McKay yelled, "You think you can just come in here and act like we're best buddies all of a sudden? You think I don't know that you only put up with me because I've saved your life me times than I can remember? You think I don't know that you and the others talk about me behind my back?" He stood, leaning over the table, "I may not be the easiest person to get along with, but when was the last time we spent any time together that wasn't work related? What makes you think that you have the right to come in here and **TELL ME WHAT TO DO?**"

"**Rodney!**" Weir stood in the doorway, a shocked expression on her face.

The scientist looked at her ad his jaw dropped, the mask of anger on his face slipping as he sank back into his seat. He hid his face in his hands and started crying uncontrollably, his entire body shaking. Weir walked over and out and arm around him, trying to comfort him.

"I'll contact Adama." She looked across to Sheppard, "See if he'll let us use the Stargate on the _Galactica_ to send Rodney back to Atlantis."

**To Be Continued...**


	6. Transitional Phase

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 6: Transitional Phase**

"We've picked up a transmission between the _Daedalus_ and the _Galactica_ that is of interest." Six walked into the room she'd been sharing with Baltar and Three, "It seems that Dr Weir wants to send Dr McKay back to their base of operation for psychological care, and need access to an artefact that the Colonials picked up from orbit."

"You were able to break the code?" Baltar asked.

"No; the message was sent in the clear." Six shook her head, "I think they wanted us to hear it."

"They want us to know that it is not some clandestine meeting." Three smiled, "They are still not allied with the 13th Tribe."

"That's a good thing," Baltar smiled, "right?"

**

* * *

**

"I'm surprised to find you here." Apollo stood leaning against the bulkhead, "Shouldn't you be getting some sleep? You have an early patrol in the morning."

"Work needs to be done, and Chief Tyrol's a little distracted." Starbuck answered from somewhere under her _Viper_, "Anyway, I can't sleep."

"Maybe you should go see Doc Cottle?" The CAG suggested, "With those Basestar's out there, I want my best pilots at their best if and when it all goes to hell."

"Maybe later." Starbuck pulled herself out, rubbing oil-covered hands on the old boiler suit she wore, "What are you doing here?" She looked at Apollo with a sly grin, "Not just keeping an eye on me, I hope? What would your wife think?"

"Strange as it may sound, the universe does not revolve around Kara Thrace." The other pilot shook his head with a similar grin, "It seems that we're going to get a good look at just what that device we picked up is and how it works."

"Nice." Starbuck used an old rag to clean up her hands as best she could, "Mind if I tag along?"

"Actually, that's why I'm here." Apollo's face fell, "Dr McKay is coming back aboard and it was suggested that it would be best if you were somewhere else..."

"Wouldn't want me to embarrass the President." Starbuck snapped back, tossing the oily rag at the immaculately dressed CAG, "Regardless of the fact that she ordered me to carry out the interrogation."

"That may be true, but right now we have to play things very carefully." Apollo looked down at the mess the rag had made of his uniform, "I've spoken to the President; she has no intention of hanging you out to dry, but we need to keep the Cylons from turning Dr Weir against us. And right now, that means keeping you out of sight."

"I'll be in my bunk." Starbuck brushed past him, "Wouldn't want to strike another superior asshole."

**

* * *

**

"Nothing?" Weir blinked in disbelief, "The team found nothing?"

"They found evidence of recent activity in and around the the Temple of Five." Caldwell handed over some photos, "There are definite signs of architecture and technology matching other Ancient outposts both in Pegasus and our own galaxy, but this Eye of Jupiter?" He shook his head, "No sign. Maybe the Colonials or Cylons got there first?"

"And unfortunately I can't ask without letting on that we were able to land a team on the planet undetected." Weir rubbed her forehead, "They know we have teleportation technology, but they don't know it's effective range. And I'd rather not let on that our Puddle Jumpers have a cloaking device; that will only make them paranoid."

"Then I suggest that you say nothing." Caldwell shrugged, "See if they say anything first."

**

* * *

**

Sheppard brought the Jumper in for a textbook landing, and watched as it was lowed into the airlock connecting the landing pad and the maintenance bay. He glanced back over his shoulder: McKay hadn't said a word since his outburst in the _Daedalus'_ mess. Becket was sitting next to him, the two of them flanked on either side by Marines, each armed with the larger, rifle-style Wraith stunner.

The light outside changed from red to green as the pressure was equalised, and the inner door opened up, allowing the automated track to pull the transport forward into the main bay. Sheppard saw the Stargate set up as instructed at the far end of the bay, far away from any equipment that might get caught by the wormhole when it first initiated. He also noted a large number of deck crew and officers standing round, eager to see it in action.

"Okay, let's go." Sheppard walked to the back of the Jumper and lowered the ramp, eyes scanning the deck for any sign of trouble.

"Time to go, Rodney." Becket helped McKay to his feet, the scientist looking more than a little shaky. The two Marines took up flanking positions, ready to react to any trouble."

"Colonel Sheppard." Apollo walked over, "If there's anything else we can do to help..."

"We just need to use that big metal ring over there, thanks." The Air Force officer replied coldly, unsure how he felt about the Colonials.

"We'd be fascinated to know how it works." Apollo smiled, trying to ease the tension.

"I'm sure you would." Sheppard nodded, "But McKay's the best person to talk to about that; he's one of our foremost experts on the matter. But, as you can understand, he's not in a very talkative mood right now."

The background conversation died as McKay stepped out into the harsh lights of the maintenance bay. All eyes were on the still visible cuts and bruises on his face. Cally stood with a hand covering her gaping jaw, then turned away, unable to meet the gaze of the Marines, and her husband put a protective arm around her. Apollo felt a lump form in his throat: he knew that Dr Weir was open to a peaceful settlement with the Cylons, something his own people would never truly accept. And with the ability of the Cylons and Baltar to warp the facts to fit their own ends, things could go bad at a moments notice.

The CAG's eyes then moved to the strange weapons the two Marine held: Starbuck and Cally had both commented on the strange mix of advanced and antiquated technology the supposed 13th Tribe used, but this was the first time he'd really taken it in. Compared to the gun he'd found on McKay, the two weapons before him looked like something from the early morning shows he'd watched with his brother as a young child.

But that image was dispelled by the look in the eyes of the two men holding the weapons: they seemed to bore right through the Apollo, almost like he wasn't there, but he knew that if he even looked like he was going for the gun holstered on his belt, then they'd react. The way they were standing made it clear just why they were there, and just what they'd do to anyone who tried to hurt McKay.

Sheppard disappeared back into the Jumper, and there was was a strange electronic sound from. The artefact across the bay started to light up, seven of the nine indentations set around its edge lighting up in order. Apollo knew that cameras where trained on everyone and everything, but he still tried to take as much in as he could. The moment the seventh symbol lit up, there was a loud whooshing sound, and what looked like water erupted from the middle of the artefact, crossing half the distance to the Jumper before it collapsed, leaving a rippled surface behind. Out of the corner of his eye, Apollo saw Sheppard type some sort of code into a device attached to his wrist, then nodded to the two Marines, who returned the gesture before heading towards the artefact.

"Come on Rodney; we're almost home." Becket let his friend up to the shimmering surface and they stepped through. The two guards waited until the glowing pool disappeared with another whoosh, then walked back to where Sheppard was standing.

"It's always impressive to watch, the first few times." The Colonel smirked, "Catch you later."

"Wait." Apollo called after him, "What do you call this," he gestured towards the artefact, "'thing'?"

"Stargate's." Sheppard answered as the Jumper's hatch started to close, "We call them Stargate's."

**

* * *

**

"We are ready." Six stood to the side of the Heavy Raider.

"Good, good." Baltar fumbled with the clasps of his briefcase, "Okay, let's go."

"Do you find Dr Weir attractive?" Another voice asked, and Baltar almost tripped as his constant antagonist stepped out of the shadows, dressed rather surprisingly in an Atlantis Expedition civilian uniform, complete with badges.

"No." The former Colonial President muttered under his breath, hoping that no one else heard, "Not at all."

"We'll see." the hallucination smiled as the hatch started to close, "We're approaching the end of one journey, and start of another; you must remain strong if you want to see the truth."

"What?" Baltar blinked, but the hatch was already closed.

"Something wrong, Doctor?" Cavil asked from across the cabin.

"No, nothings wrong." Baltar did his best to regain his composure, "Just thinking out loud."

**

* * *

**

"Dr Becket, Dr McKay." Major Lorne stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the Stargate Operations, "Welcome back to Atlantis."

"Thank you." Becket nodded as he lead McKay towards the infirmary, "Have you sent Dr Weir's report to Earth yet?"

"We're just about to now." Lorne nodded as the Stargate started dialling, "Is there anything else you want to add?"

"Just this." Becket pulled a memory stick out of his shirt pocket and handed it over, "It's my finding concerning Colonial DNA, and a complete report on Rodney's condition."

"I'll make sure it's sent." the Major nodded, then turned to McKay, "You don't have to worry now, Doctor; we're not going to let those bastards anywhere near you."

**

* * *

**

"Okay, let's go." Weir walked into the landing bay.

"I still say we should take a bigger security detail." Sheppard stood just inside the Jumper, "As good as Ronon and I are, we can't fight our way off of a ship as big as the _Galactica_."

"I'd rather hoped to avoid that sort of situation." Weir replied dryly.

"Since when did that have anything to do with anything?" the pilot asked as he made his way to the controls, the hatch closing behind him, "Best laid plans of mice."

"Of mice and men." Weir rolled her eyes, "The phrase is 'the best laid plans of mice and men'."

"Not according to Douglas Adams." Sheppard looked over his shoulder and winked, "I still say we need more people."

"I agree, in theory." Weir nodded as the Jumper lifted up off of the deck and out of the hanger bay, "But I feel it's best if we try and limit our contact with either side until this is resolved." she took a breath, "In fact, I have a job for you today; I want you to take Admiral Adama up on his offer to tour the _Galactica_."

"What about me?" Ronon asked, speaking up for the first time.

"You, stay with Elizabeth." Sheppard's tone of voice offered no chance of argument, "I want at least one of us with her at all times while she's off the _Daedalus_."

"I'm sitting right here you know?" Weir protested.

"I agree." Ronon nodded, ignoring the expedition leaders protest, "It would be a bad idea to leave her alone with them, especially as we know so little about them."

There was a blur of movement, and Weir's hands swatted both men around the side of the head.

"I am sitting right here." She repeated, "I do not need the two of you playing nursemaid: I used to do this for a living."

"With all due respect, Elizabeth," Sheppard rubbed the side of his head, "back then, you normally had a UN or Secret Service bodyguard. What's so different about now?"

"Now I can have Hermiod transport me out with the push of a button." Weir countered.

"I still want Ronon there to watch your back." Sheppard insisted, "I know you; you get carried away and stop taking notice of everything around you. I want another set of trained eyes there to keep a look out for anything you might miss."

"Why thank you, John." Weir smiled, "That almost sounded sincere."

"I try." The pilot smirked back, before activating the communication's system, "_Galactica_ approach control, this is _Jumper-1_; requesting permission to land."

"Jumper-1, _this is_ Galactica." The landing control officer responded, "_You're vector is good; come in when ready_."

"Jumper-1 confirms; begging final approach now." Sheppard cut the link, "Now remember people: smiles."

**To Be Continued...**

Okay, I'm going to take a moment here to respond to a few questions in a way that everyone can read.

_**Q:** Will there be further repercussions for the way McKay was treated?  
_**A:** Yes; both Starbuck and Roslin will face some tough questions about their actions. I would like to say more, but I don't want to give away a large part of the planned plot.

_**Q:** Are you ignoring the Ori storyline?  
_**A:** Yes and no; I've only seen a few episodes of Season 9 of SG1, so I can't say much about it without contradicting the canon.

_**Q:** Will the Wraith make an appearance?  
_**A:** Yes. In fact, I have something special planned for them.

_**Q:** Zip-fasten or fasten-zip?  
_**A:** Can we get back on topic here?

_**Q:** What about Hera?  
_**A:** Next chapter, I promise you (okay, one after that at the very latest).

_**Q:** Are they all going to live happily ever after?  
_**A:** Look who you're fracking talking to here: of course they're not! Where's the dramatic tension in that?


	7. Revelations

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 7: Revelations**

"Is this everything?" Major General Jack O'Neill sat at the head of the breathing room table, surviving the hastily put together report in front of him.

"Everything Dr Weir sent us, and a little more from Atlantis." General Landry nodded, "I must say, Jack, that this is all a little hard to take in."

"You think?" O'Neill asked sarcastically, "Hell, I've lost count of the number of times we've had to re-write the history books since we first stepped through the Stargate."

"I know how you feel." The other General nodded in agreement, "But, I suppose that's the price we pay if we want to sit in the big chair."

"As Teal'c would no-doubt say, indeed." O'Neill put the report down and rubbed his forehead, "Rodney McKay may be the most pompous, self-obsessed, egotistical jerk I've ever met. Hell; I've felt like hitting him from time to time! But even he doesn't deserve this."

"True; there's going to have to be a reckoning." Landry shook his head, "I'd never allow something like that to take place on my watch."

"I agree, but I'm not sure the IOA will see it that way." O'Neill sighed, "These Colonials wave something shiny in front of them, and all will be forgiven."

"That's politics for you," Landry let his disdain come across loud and clear, "and politics is no place for a soldier."

"Washington and Eisenhower were soldiers!" O'Neill pointed out.

"They were Army; damn ground pounders don't know better." The other General laughed, "God, this is a hell of a mess to have drop on our laps."

"Well, I'm about to take some off it off your hands." O'Neill pulled an envelope from his shirt pocket, "Dr Weir requested either the _Prometheus_ or _Odyssey_ sent to Atlantis to back up the _Daedalus_. The IOA has agreed, as long as Woolsey goes along to represent them."

"Send the _Odyssey_; you might need the extra fire-power." Landry suggested, "Keep the _Prometheus_ here to guard against any attacks."

"Thank you; I will. Anyway, the cabins on the _Odyssey_ are much more to my liking." O'Neill nodded, then saw the inquisitive look on the other man's face, "What? You thought I was going to send someone else?"

"I was kind of hoping that you'd send me." Landry admitted, "I've never been to Atlantis."

"Neither have I." O'Neill smirked as he stood, "And I'll be taking Daniel, Carter and Walter."

"No!" Landry shook his head, "Jackson and Carter are a given, but there is no way I'm letting you have Walter! He's the only one who seems to know how everything works around here. Take Siler instead."

"I take Siler, and I'm only going to end up having to save his ass, again." O'Neill shook his head, "They guys a walking accident waiting to happen. Walter can look after himself."

"That's true." Landry admitted, somewhat reluctantly, before offering his hand, "Good luck, although I don't know how you plan on getting there fast enough to make a difference?"

"Have faith, Hank." O'Neill winked as he shook the offered hand, "I have a cunning plan..."

**

* * *

**

Sheppard was having a hard time keeping himself from day dreaming: so far Gaeta had shown him the _Galactica's_ laundry, kitchen, mess hall and part of the abandoned museum in the starboard flight pod (although he had to admit that the last part had been kind of cool: the old 'walking chrome toaster' Centurion standing in its display case looked like something out of a cash-strapped 80's TV show), but nothing of any real importance.

He was then surprised when they passed through jet another hatch (didn't anyone ever think about putting up a helpful 'you are here' map?) and found themselves in the pilots ready room. All conversation stopped dead as everyone turned to look at him, and he suddenly felt like a little kid being brought up in front of the principle for saying a bad word in class.

"Hi." He smiled and waved a hand sheepishly, "Nice weather for this time of year?"

"Fracking idiot." One of the pilots snorted, "We've been living on a ship for the better part of two years; what weather?"

"You stow that." An older, balding officer with an eye-patch that Sheppard recognised as the ship's XO snapped back, "You're an officer in the Colonial Fleet; act like it."

"Maybe I should go." Sheppard started to back up, but found his way blocked.

"What's the matter?" Starbuck asked as she brushed past him, "Not got the balls to hang with real pilots?"

"I'm a real pilot!" Sheppard protested, feeling the need to defend the honour of the entire USAF, "Hell, I've probably flown more aircraft than you: I'm qualified on the AH-1 _Cobra_, AH-64 _Apache_, OH-58 _Kiowa_, UH-60 _Blackhawk_, CV-22 _Osprey_ and F-302."

"And which one of those is the school bus you're driving these days?" Another Colonial pilot asked.

"That's called a Puddle Jumper." Sheppard snapped back, "And it was fast and nimble enough to leave two of your fighters standing and dodge everything the _Galactica_ could throw at it."

"He's got you there, Captain Thrace." Tigh smiled at the cocky pilot, "But maybe letting the two of you bust each others heads isn't the best way to settle this."

"I've got a better idea." Sheppard opened on of the pouches attached to his BDU's and pulled out a well-used pack of cards held together with an elastic band, "I say we let the cards decide."

"Playing cards with Starbuck?" Tigh snickered, "Well, we've all got to learn sometime."

"Oh I do like a challenge." Sheppard started the shuffle the cards as he sat down, "We're start with something simple; say, Texas Hold'em?"

**

* * *

**

"Okay, I think we can drop that part of the discussion for now." Weir rubbed her forehead, trying to fend off the headache that was forming, "The question of who was responsible for the war and why it happened isn't that important. What is important is where we go from here."

"We would like peace." Cavil smiled, "We have come to the consensus that our attack on the twelve colonies, no matter what the provocation, was a mistake. While we thought that we were defending ourselves, we were, in fact, just repeating the sins of our creators."

"We seek to move beyond what we were." Six nodded, "The Cylon race was created for war, but is that all we are good for? Is it impossible for us to move beyond what we were to what we could be?"

"Tell that to the people you imprisoned in your camps on the Colonies." Roslin almost spat, "Tell that to the people you imprisoned, tortured and executed during your occupation of New Caprica..."

"We never intended the occupation to be so oppressive." Three countered, maintaining her composure, "It was not until the insurgents started to attack us and those who chose to work with rather than against us that we were forced, regrettably, to tighten our security."

"While these are valid points, there is one thing that my oaths as a Colonial Officer compel me to bring up." Adama spoke up, the tone of his voice getting everyone's attention, "There are more than forty thousand starving civilians crammed into ships at our emergency rendezvous point. Whatever else happens, we need to agree on a course of action that will go at least some way towards helping them."

"I thought we agreed not to mention that?" Roslin asked.

"With all due respect, Madam President, my oath of service was made to the people of the Twelve Colonies, not the government." The Admiral replied, "And as I have proven in the past, I will do whatever I feel is in the best interests of what little remains of our civilisation."

"I agree with the Admiral." Weir nodded, "While the _Daedalus_ carries no where near the sort of supplies we're talking about, we do have ways of acquiring them and getting them here."

"This, 'Stargate' thing sitting in my hold?" Adama asked, feeling like he was finally making headway.

"Yes." Weir nodded, "I'm not ready to take anyone back to Atlantis just yet, but I can have them send our emergency stores through to here."

"That is some of the best news we've had in a long time." Roslin smiled warmly, "I only hope that it is enough."

Out of the corner of her eye, Weir saw Baltar lean forward and say something to one of the Cylons, who nodded in agreement.

"We would also like to help." Cavil leaned forward, "We still have some of the foodstuffs that we were transporting to New Caprica on our ships. We would be willing to hand them over, as a show of good faith."

"That would be acceptable." Roslin nodded slowly, "Providing Dr Weir and her people can inspect them and assure they have not been tampered with."

"We can do that." Weir looked at the Cylons, "If that is acceptable by you."

"We find no problem with that." Six flashed a set of perfect teeth, "We only wish to help."

**

* * *

**

"Few more hands like this," Sheppard grinned like a Cheshire Cat as he lay his cards down, "and I'll own this entire ship."

"FRACK!" Starbuck hissed, throwing her cards down in protest, "I should have stuck to Triad."

"You're assuming that he's telling the truth." Tigh laughed, "For all we know, he could be making the rules up as he goes along..."

Any reply Sheppard had planned was lost when the sound of shouting came from outside the hatch and Athena burst in, tears streaming down her face. She looked around the room until she saw a bottle of liquor. Grabbing it without a word, she pulled of the lid and shot-gunned it, swallowing two entire mouthfuls before the coming up for air."

"Wow there, Sharon!" Starbuck grabbed the bottle and pulled it away, "What's going on?"

"That fracking bitch Roslin!" The other pilot responded, her voice slightly slurred, "I've done everything I can to prove my loyalty, and this is how she repays me? Well **FRACK HER!**"

"Somebody want to let me in in what's going on?" Sheppard asked.

"Lieutenant Agathon's a Cylon; she defected to our side a few months after the attack on the colonies." Tigh explained, "Adama gave her a commission when she agreed to help him rescue the rest of us from New Caprica. It took us all a while to trust her; one of her 'sister' was a sleeper agent on _Galactica_ for years, until she put two rounds into the Old Man in the middle of the CIC."

"I should introduce her to a guy I know called Teal'c; they could form a support group." Sheppard nodded, "But what's gotten her so riled?"

"That's what I'd like to know." The XO looked round as Helo walked in, "Captain; you're wife seems agitated. Care to explain?"

"It's Hera." Helo looked equally upset, "She's not dead; the President lied to us."

"What?" Starbuck looked round, "Are you drunk?"

"It's true: Cottle faked her death under the Presidents orders." Athena tried to grab the bottle back, but Starbuck's reactions we too fast, "Gave her to a woman in the civilian fleet who'd last her daughter, made up some story to explain it. The woman got killed on New Caprica, and now the Cylons have my daughter." She sobbed, "They say she's sick, and they don't know why."

"Hold that thought for a moment." Sheppard activated his radio, "Hermiod; can you scan the Cylon ships for any anomalous life-signs?"

"_Define 'anomalous'?_" The Asgardian engineer asked.

"Anything that looks like a Human/Cylon hybrid?" The pilot asked, noticing the way everyone was looking at him, "What? It might help?"

"_Confirmed_." Hermiod reported after a few moments silence, "_One life-sing matching the one you described detected on the Cylon Resurrection ship_."

"Excellent; hold that lock while I talk to Dr Weir." Sheppard switched frequencies, "Elizabeth, can we talk?"

"_Now is not such a good time, John_." The Expedition leader responded, "_We're at a very delicate stage in the negotiations._"

"Just ask the guys there about someone named Hera." Sheppard smiled, "It should be interesting to see their responses."

**

* * *

**

"Understood." Weir looked up and saw that everyone was looking at her.

"Is there a problem?" Roslin asked.

"I don't know." Weir looked slightly confused, "Does the name 'Hera' mean anything to you?"

The room feel quiet as the proverbial grave as the Colonial President froze, unsure how to react.

"She's the daughter of two of my officers." Adama broke the silence, "Most of us believed that she dies shortly after she was born from respirator failure, something that I have just recently learned was a lie perpetrated by my Chief Medical Officer at the behest of the President."

"Why?" Ronon asked, speaking fort he first time since the meeting had started.

"Hera's mothers is a Cylon." Six explained, "And at the time, they did not trust her to raise her daughter. So they lied, as they always do. We too believed she was dead until Gaius and I found her in her dead foster mothers arms on New Caprica during the evacuation." She looked at Roslin, "We know her part in what is to come: she will one day lead God's children..."

"_Dr Weir, Ronan, Sheppard_." Caldwell's voice broadcast over all three radios, "_Sorry to interrupt, but we have a situation; we've just picked up a Wraith cruiser entering the system_."

"Can you intercept?" Weir asked, ignore the looks she was getting from everyone else.

"_Confirmed; we're on our way now_." The Colonel reported, "_But where there's one, there's bound to be more sooner or later; we need to leave this system, A-Sap._"

**To Be Continued...**


	8. Blood of Heroes

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 8: Blood of Heroes**

"I need to get back to my ship." Sheppard look across the table to Gaeta, "**NOW!**"

"Follow me." Starbuck was already half way through the hatch and accelerating down the corridor, "What the frack are the Wraith?"

"Ever have a nightmare about a creature that just wouldn't die, no matter what you did?" Sheppard asked as he did his best to keep up, "That, if it caught you, would literally suck the very life out of your body?"

"Can't say I have." Starbuck shook her head as she reached a set of stairs going down, pushing through a knot of crew members standing at the top "**MAKE A HOLE!**"

"The Wraith are evil in ways you could never imagine." There was a loud thud as Sheppard landed behind her, "And they have the ships and weapons to back it up: they find your fleet, and it'll be like an all-you-can-eat buffet as fare as they're concerned."

"Can you stop them?" The Colonial pilot asked.

"One Wraith cruiser?" Sheppard shrugged, "No problem. It's if they manage to call up their big guns, then we're in it up to our necks."

"Then let's blow it the hell out of my sky!" Starbuck reached the last set of steps leading down to the hanger deck and turned round, down them as fast as she could, a move that Sheppard followed.

"Captain?" Chief Tyrol called out, surprised to see their breakneck entrance, "What the frack's going on?"

"I need my ship ready to go, now." Sheppard ran to the Jumper and dived into the pilots seat.

"Do what he says!" Starbuck yelled then dived through the closing rear hatch.

"And what the hell do you think you're doing?" Sheppard asked as the ship started to move towards the airlock.

"If these Wraith are as bad as you say, then my people need to know how to fight them." Starbuck sat in the co-pilots seat, "And I want to see just how this school bus can outrun a _Viper_ on full-burn."

"Sit still, shut up and try not to touch anything." Sheppard hissed as the airlock closed behind them and the bay started to de-pressurise. After what felt like an age, the warning light went from green to red and the upper hatch started to open.

"Time to go." Activating the HUD, Sheppard pulled back on the controls. The Jumper rose sharply, almost hitting the roof of the landing pod before stabilising, nose pointed towards the bow of the Battlestar. The twin drive-pods extended from their rest position, and the exterior view blurred as the small craft shot forward at incredible speed.

"Holy shit!" Starbuck exclaimed as the Jumper left the _Galactica_ and the Cylon fleet far behind as it headed out on a course that would pass the _Daedalus_ and her wing of sixteen F-302 fighters that were already headed towards the Wraith warship. Two sliver and grey streaks indicated that the Jumper had passed the _Galactica's_ CAP, leaving the two _Vipers_ in its wake.

"Just how fast can this thing go?" Starbuck asked.

"Top speed is theoretically infinite." Sheppard shrugged as he brought the weapons system on-line, "Maximum acceleration is only limited by the inertial compensator's; they can only handle so many G's."

"Inertial compensator's?" The Colonial fighter-ace asked, "What are they?"

"They remove inertia from within a set area." Sheppard explained as the Wraith cruiser came into view, "But now is not the best time to go into it." He activated the radio, "_Jumper-1_ to _Daedalus_; have your 302's concentrate on the Darts. I'll take care of the Cruiser."

"Daedalus _confirms_." Caldwell responded, "_Opening fire, now!_"

Starbuck sat and watched in awe as the battle cruiser opened fire with all her forward rail guns, sending thousands of rounds towards the other starship at near light speed. The kinetic forces were immense, and each round made the shields on the Wraith warship flash brilliantly. Return fire filled the void, trying to find a way past the _Daedalus'_ own Asgard-built defences, but they held firm, at least for the time being.

Sheppard put the Jumper through a series of tight turners and twist that would have been impossible in even the latest Colonial _Viper_, dodging the heavy fire from the cruiser and the swarm of small, dart-shaped fighters that charged towards them on near suicidal course. The HUD flashed to indicate a weapons lock, and Sheppard fire a trio of drones the moment he had a clear shot. One was intercepted by a Dart that sacrificed itself in a bid to save its mother-ship, but the other two struck home. Huge explosions blossomed on the side of the cruiser as the drones bypassed the shields like they weren't even there are impacted against the hull. Secondary explosions indicated internal damage, but still the massive warship continued towards the _Daedalus_.

"Why won't you just **DIE!**" Sheppard hissed as he fired again, sending another trio of drones into the Wraith ship at much closer range.

There were no Darts to stop them this time, and all three projectiles struck their target, ripping through the already savaged hull and deep into the superstructure before exploding with devastating effect. The first explosion shattered the warships bow, followed by more blasts that travelled back along its length until the engines detonated with a blinding flash that momentarily rivalled the systems star for brilliance. When the glair faded, the once mighty Wraith cruiser was no more.

But and adulation was short lived as the Jumper was rocked by multiple hits from one of the surviving Darts. Sheppard tried to dodge out of the way, but the ship was too badly damaged and the rear bulkhead gave way with the ear ear-splitting roar of escaping atmosphere.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"By the Lords of Kobol..." Roslin watched the replay of the battle on the briefing room's display screen. The footage was patched together from gun cameras on the _Daedalus_ and her surviving 302's. No other ship had been close enough to get a good look of what had happened, but the destruction of the Wraith Cruiser had been visible to anyone in the system. The final image showed the destruction of the Puddle Jumper, followed closely by the demise of the Dart that had destroyed it.

"As you can no doubt tell, while our transports can handle themselves, they are in now way designed for combat." Weir explained, "They mainly rely on stealth and speed, and are relatively lightly armoured."

"Yet the _Daedalus_ is protected by some form of energy screen." Cavil pointed out, "How is that? Our scientist have always said that such a device is impossible."

"I don't know enough about how our shields work to go into any details." Weir shook her head, "And even if I did, they're a closely guarded military secret."

"I take it that there is still no sign of Captain Thrace or Colonel Sheppard?" Adama asked.

"Not yet." Weir nodded solemnly, "Our searcher and rescue people are still looking, but considering what happened to the Jumper..." She took a breath and forced herself to remain composed, "We have to assume, bashed on what happened, that they were both killed in the explosion."

"I'll inform the crew." The Admiral nodded, "Gods know, I've had to do it enough times..."

"If you don't mind, I'd like to inform Captain Thrace's husband myself, before you make a ship-wide announcement." Roslin looked across to him, "We got to know each other quite well during the Occupation of New Caprica."

"As you wish." Adama nodded.

"We regret the deaths of Captain Thrace and Colonel Sheppard." Six spoke up on behalf of the Cylons, "If the Wraith are indeed as dangerous as you say, then we owe them a debt that can never be repaid."

"Make any peace settlement we reach a testament to their sacrifice." Weir suggested, "They gave their lives to protect everyone here; make that mean something." She reached into her pocket and pulled out two sheets of paper, "Coordinate for Atlantis; if we're going to continue this dialogue, then we should do so somewhere safer."

"What of the Temple of Five and the Eye of Jupiter?" Cavil asked.

"The Temple had been badly damaged by a landslide." Adama admitted, "We were able to recover some artefacts, but nothing of any importance..."

"As is God's will." Cavil shrugged, "Some things are perhaps best left unknown."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"_Colonel Caldwell; I have completed my last sensor sweep_." Hermiod reported, "_There is no sign of Colonel Sheppard or Captain Thrace._"

"Understood." The _Daedalus'_ CO rubbed his forehead, "Enter into the ships log that Lieutenant Colonel John Sheppard was killed in action against the Wraith on this date. Also enter into the logs the death in combat of Lieutenants Paul Leand, Amy McGee, Archer Gates and Captain David Lee, USAF." He sighed, "Looks like I've got some letters to write..."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

"So?" Adama asked as he watched the Cylon fleet jump out of system.

"So?" Roslin shrugged, "Do we have any other choice?"

"We could keep running: we now have hard, physical evidence that Earth exists."

"But we still have no idea where it is, how to get there, and what else we might run into before we get there. How many jumps would it take to get to Atlantis?"

"if the coordinated Dr Weir gave us are to be believed, maybe a hundred. Less, if I can sober up Lieutenant Agathon and convince her to talk to one of the navigational computers we salvaged from a Heavy Raider."

"I somehow doubt that she will be feeling too helpful in the near future."

"The price we pay for your little stunt." Adama shifted uncomfortably, "I would like to state that I object to what you did, and would never have agreed to it."

"That's why I never told you." Roslin admitted, "I need someone to keep my moral compass in check."

"I may not be the best person for the job." Adama sighed, "I trust Weir; she could have turned tail and run after what we did to Dr McKay, but she stayed to out. She's a good person."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The small observation bay at the rear of the _Daedalus_ was rarely used; with the ship in hyperspace, there was little or nothing to see. The door opened to admit Caldwell, the harsh light from outside offering stark contrast to the dark interior. He closed the hatch and the room was again lit only by the swirly vortex of hyperspace. It took a moment for his eyes to grow accustom to the dark, but he could hear the soft sobbing from the far corner.

"I've been looking for you." He spoke as softly as he could and still be heard over the low throb of the ship's powerful engines, "You've not been answering the com."

"I needed some alone time." Weir didn't even look up, her head still resting on her knees, "Don't suppose I could convince you to go away?"

"I'm afraid not." Caldwell turned one of the chairs round to face the expedition leader and sat down, "For one thing, I need to know your state of mind before we reach Atlantis."

"And the other?" Weir asked.

"I'm worried about you." Caldwell shrugged, "I know we didn't get off on the best foot, and we've bumped heads on more than one occasion, but I do respect you and would like to consider you a friend."

"Feel free; I need all the friends I can get." Weir lifted her head and rested it against the bulkhead, "I think you might have to take over the negotiations, at least until the IOA can send someone from Earth."

"You cared for Colonel Sheppard a great deal, didn't you?" It was more a statement of fact than a question.

"More than I should have, as his superior." Weir admitted, "But it seems to be an occupational hazard if you work for the SGC."

"So I hear." Caldwell smiled softly, "But what you said back on the _Galactica_, about making peace their monument? That's the best thing we could do to honour his memory."

"I always was good at making up stuff like that." Weir wiped away the tears, "I suppose you're right: I really should get back to work."

"We're still a day away from Atlantis." Caldwell stood and headed for the door, "Take your time."

**To Be Continued...**


	9. You Can Never Go Home Again

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 9: You Can Never Go Home Again**

The first explosion threw Baltar across the room and into the wall with enough force to momentarily stun him. He landed on the deck just as a second explosion rocked the Basestar and alarms started howling for attention. Thick, billowing smoke started to fill the room, chocking him. Just as he reached the point of passing out, a strong metallic arm grabbed him and pulled him clear just as a hatch slammed shut.

"Gaius?" Six knelt down next to him, ignoring the motionless Centurion, "Gaius, can you hear me?"

"What...what's happening?" Baltar coughed, trying to dray fresh, clear air into his lungs with each gasping breath, "Was there an accident?"

"No; we're under attack." The blond Cylon helped him to his feat, "We think it's the Wraith."

"The Wraith?" Baltar almost slumped to the floor again in surprise, "Here? How? Where are we?"

"We're in orbit of Caprica; it was decided we needed to discuss our options more before continuing on to Atlantis." Six explained as she led him along the passageway to the control room, "We don't know where they came from; like the _Daedalus_, they use a method of FTL that we've never encountered before."

"Can you stop them?" The former Colonial President asked, his strong instinct for self-preservation coming to the for.

"We're trying, but their ships are a lot more powerful than we are." Six braced them as a fresh series of explosions rocked the ship, "We're preparing to evacuate the Colonies."

"What?" Baltar blinked, "How many Wraith ships are there?"

"Just the one, but it is much, much bigger than the one we saw before." They entered the control room, and Six looked at the other Cylons, "Have our re-enforcements arrived?"

"Yes." One of the Simon's nodded, "Almost two thirds of our fleet in engaged in combat against the Wraith vessel."

"The others are guarding the evacuation fleet." His identical twin reported, "We can hold them, for now."

"I fear not, my friends." Cavil looked grim, "Another two identical ships have just arrived." He looked around the room, "We can't hold them off."

"And so the circle is complete." The hallucination whispered in Baltar's ear, "God obviously has a sence of irony. Where will you go now?"

"Atlantis?" Baltar asked, then realised that he'd said it loud enough for everyone else to hear and had to say something else before they thought he was crazy, "Atlantis; we need to go there. We've seen that they can handle the Wraith."

"He's right; staying here would be suicide." Three nodded her agreement, then her face fell and she almost doubled over, "They've taken prisoners..."

"I can feel it too." Boomer sank to the deck, "I can feel it, what they're doing to them." she looked up, "The Resurrection ships!"

"My God!" Six looked like she'd seen a ghost, "If they capture them..."

"We leave, now!" Cavil ordered, "We take every ship we can and we leave this system, and never look back."

"Agreed." Six squeezed Baltar's hand, "By your command."

"Will they even let us stay?" He asked, "Offering to broker a peace treaty between us and the Remnant is one thing, but sanctuary from the Wraith?"

"Relax, Gaius." She smiled back, "What kind of guests would we be if we didn't bring an appropriate gift?"

**

* * *

**

The mood in the pilots ready room on the _Galactica_ was subdued; Starbuck's death had hit them all harder than they liked to admit. The brash, cocky pilot had come though the war almost unscathed, and many of the younger, less experienced pilots had looked up to her. Even Tigh sat silently at one of the tables, the drink in front of him untouched. Athena sat beside him, still brooding at Roslin's betrayal. Her husband sat on the other side of her, likewise deeply depressed; they had both been through hell after Hera's 'death', and now it felt like he was going through it all over again.

"At ease." Adama stepped through the hatch, ignoring the fact that the assembled officers only made a half-hearted attempt to stand, "We have just two more jumps before we reach the coordinates we were given for Atlantis. To avoid any possible ambush, we will be sending in a pair of _Raptor's_ ahead of the fleet to make sure everything is as we've been told. I need volunteers to crew them."

"I'll go." Athena stood slowly, her normally bright eyes almost dead, "I need to get off this ship."

"We'll both go." Helo stood and placed an arm on her shoulder, "I'm still the best ECO in the fleet."

"I'll fly the other _Raptor_." Racetrack stood on the other side of the room.

"I'll be the second ECO." Tigh looked up, "If this is a trap, I want to make sure that the Cylon bastards pay dearly for it."

"Saul, it's been almost 40 years since you flew a _Raptor_." Adama protested.

"I'm still qualified, and you know it." his XO pointed out, "And if it is a trap, we'll need someone senior on the scene."

"Very well." Adama looked at the volunteers, "See Chief Tyrol about having the _Raptor's_ re-fitted for reconnaissance: I want you wheels up within an hour of our next jump."

**

* * *

**

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes." Caldwell breathed a sigh of relief as the _Daedalus_ dropped out of hyperspace in orbit of Lantea, the planet that was home to Atlantis: two other ships sat in orbit of the city. One was a near identical copy of his own command, while the other was the imposing but infinitely reassuring shape of an Asgard _O'Neill_ class Battle Cruiser.

There was a flash of light, and the _Daedalus'_ officers found themselves looking at a slightly smug General O'Neill.

"Ten-hut!" Caldwell ordered as he came to attention.

"Guys, relax." O'Neill waved them all back to their seats with a smile, "Sorry for popping in unannounced, but your last message did seem to indicate that there was a need for expediency. Are Dr Weir and Colonel Sheppard around?"

"Dr Weir is in her cabin." Caldwell took a deep breath, "I'm afraid that Colonel Sheppard was kill three days ago while destroying a Wraith Cruiser."

"Oh." The General's face fell, "Then I suggest that you bring me up to speed as we land. Thor is going to hide the _Odyssey_ and the _Samantha Carter_ in the planets magnetic field: I want them kept as our aces-in-the-hole in case things go bad."

"Will you be conducting the negotiations?" Caldwell asked somewhat sceptically.

"No; I brought Woolsey with me to represent the IOA." O'Neill shook his head, "He can assist Dr Weir."

"She might need the help; she's taken Sheppard's death badly." Caldwell admitted, "Okay, time to land this thing." He turned to the helmsman, "Take us down."

**

* * *

**

"My God!" Baltar looked out of the Heavy Raider's window as it transferred them across from their damaged Battlestar to a bigger, more powerful command ship, "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yes." Six slid her arms around his waist and smiled, "We've been trying to decide what to do with it for some time; we used to use it for storage, but that seemed like such a waste after all that's happened."

"And that's the gift you're giving to Dr Weir?" Her lover turned his head to the side so he could see the expression on her face, "You're giving them that? Is it some kind of trick?"

"No tricks, Gaius." The blond kissed him on the tip of the nose, "The time for games is over, and we can't afford to risk angering the Thirteenth Tribe; it will be theirs free and clear."

"I'd like to see Adama and Roslin's faces when you hand it over." Baltar smiled contently, "That might just make everything else worth while."

"Oh, I think I can arrange for you to be there." Six bit his ear playfully, "The time has come for my people to become what we were destined to become, and I want you to be there with me when it happens."

"Have I ever told you that I love you?" Baltar asked.

"No." Six smiled, "But I have all the proof that I will ever need."

**

* * *

**

"Do they honestly think we can't see them?" Zelenka asked as a large number of base personnel stood around the deep space sensors, watching the two reconnaissance _Raptors _skulking around in the outer system some way from Lantea.

"That might be the truth." Carter nodded, "From what we can tell, their sensor technology is at least twenty years behind us. And that doesn't even take into consideration the fact that we're using sensors built by the Ancients..."

"Should we say 'Hi'?" O'Neill asked, "Let them know that we know that they are there?"

"I'd recommend against it." Weir shook her head, "They seem almost hostile to any advanced technology: letting them know that we can not only see their reconnaissance craft, but also their main fleet at its staging area might scare them off."

"You're the expert." The General shrugged, "I'm just here to take the blame should it all go to hell in a hand basket."

"They're powering up their FTL drives!" Zelenka pointed at the screen, "See that power spike there?"

"I see it." Carter nodded, "God, I'd love to take one of those apart..."

"Well maybe if you're a good little girl Santa will get you one for Christmases." O'Neill replied sarcastically, "We're about to find ourselves with 40,000 house guests: the science can wait till later."

"I agree." Woolsey spoke up for the first time, "We need to get a peace treaty signed between these Colonials and the Cylons before we can even think of a technological exchange."

"You do know that both sides want to go to Earth." Weir pointed out.

"Yes, and I have been told by the rest of the IOA that that is impossible while the very existence of the Stargate program remains hidden from the public." The former NID agent shook his head, "We might be able to find them a each a planet near Earth where we can help the rebuild, but with the constant threat of the Ori hanging over our heads..." He shrugged, "We may not be the safe haven they are looking for."

"Atlantis could, strange as it may seem, be the safest place for them." O'Neill shook his head in despair, "You take out one bad guy, and there's always another ready to take his place..."

"That's all very well, but we do need to prepare." Caldwell stood against the nearby wall with his arms crossed, "We need to lock down the central tower, and any other sensitive areas: we've had too many close calls to give near total strangers free reign of the city."

"Agreed." Weir nodded, "I've asked Ronon and Teyla to stick to McKay, keep him from running into anyone he might recognise from his time on the _Galactica_."

"How is he, by the way?" Carter asked.

"Still very badly shaken: Doctors Becket and Heightmeyer are trying to help him." Weir looked troubled, "They say that he should make a full recovery, but it will take some time."

"I might go see him later." The astrophysicist nodded, "Maybe a friendly face will cheer him up."

**

* * *

**

"There was no sign of any Cylon presence in the system." Tigh spread out the photos taken by the two reconnaissance ships across the plotting table, "The _Daedalus_ seems to be here; on the edge of this city on the inner of the two inhabitable planets.

"Hard to believe a ship that big can land." Gaeta whistled appreciatively, "I've compared the photos of Atlantis to what I found in the Sacred Scrolls; there are some definite similarities."

"Cally said the place was huge, big as Caprica City." Adama nodded, "There is no way the Cylons could have set this up in the off chance that we'd fall into their trap."

"So you think it's them?" Tigh asked, "You think it's the Thirteenth Tribe?"

"I think it's what Dr Weir said it is; an outpost." The Admiral nodded, "Just who these 'Ancients' are and what happened to them? That's something for the President to ask about. All I want to know is, is it safe?"

"I think it's as safe as anything we're ever likely to find." Apollo nodded, "I'd feel better knowing more about their defensive and offensive capabilities, but one way or another, we have to find food, and soon."

"I agree." Adama looked around the table at the assembled officers, "Signal the fleet: make ready to jump to Atlantis."

**To Be Continued...**

_Constructive criticism welcome, flames cheerfully ignored, demands that I re-write large parts of the story either deleted or the reviewer barded from posting further reviews of any of my work._

_I'm writing this because I enjoy writing it.  
__Not to get reviews (although they are nice) and certainly not for any financial gain.  
__Events will unfold as and when I have placed them in the plot, and not a moment before._

_Thank you for reading, and enjoy the rest of the story._


	10. Rage Against The Dying Of The Light

_Poem used written by Dylan Thomas.  
__Song lyrics by Nelson Willie._

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 10: Rage Against The Dying Of The Light**

"The bulk of our fleet will wait here." Cavil stood before the assembled Cylon High Council, "We have agreed that sending more than one ship could be seen as an act of aggression. We are close enough to Atlantis that anyone killed will be picked up by one of the Resurrection ships."

"We will go on ahead on this ship and make contact." Six nodded in agreement, "If all goes well, we should be able to single for the transports and our 'gift' within an hour of the start of the negotiations."

"We must assume that Atlantis is defended." Boomer looked at the other, "Dr Weir would not have invited up unless she was convinced that they could defend themselves against an attack."

"They have seen battle against Wraith and survived." Simon rubbed his chin, "They must be able to defend their city some way."

"The weapons we saw Colonel Sheppard use against the Wraith cruiser?" Leoben suggested, "It seemed much more advanced than the weapons fired by the _Daedalus_."

"They also spoke of 'friends'." Three thought for a moment, "If the Wraith are not human, then is it possible that they have made contact with other, friendlier, races?"

The entire room feel silent as they all took in what had been said.

"There is an urban legend, you might not have heard or it, dating back to ten years to so after the first Human/Cylon war." Baltar spoke up from his seat deep in the shadows at the back of the room, only the burning end of his cigarette really visible, "One day, a farmer on Aerelon noticed some strange debris while working on a farm 70 miles from Cuffle's Breath Wash. He called the local police station, who in turn placed a call to a near by Colonial Fleet Reserve Base, thinking that maybe something had fallen off of one of their ships. Nobody really thought anything of it, until the military moved in and cordoned off the entire area, interviewing the farmer, his son, the rest of his family and the desk sergeant at the police station. They ask about a storm two nights before the debris was found and did they see anything strange. They said no, and the debris was quickly and quietly taken away never to be seen again."

"And the relevance of this is?" Cavil asked, "It is, in your own words, an urban legend."

"The farmer in question was my father. The son who was with him, my older brother." Baltar stood and slowly made his way to the middle of the room, holding his cigarette in one hand while the other was in his jacket pocket, "I was only a child at the time, but I saw some of the material they found, and it was unlike anything I've seen before or since. Right then and there I dedicated my life to becoming a scientist so that, maybe, one day I'd be able to find out where that debris came from. In fact, while your college there," He nodded to Six, "was snooping around inside the Colonial Defence Mainframe planting all those viruses of yours that were so very effective against the fleet, I did a little snooping of my own, until I found the file on the incident."

"My God!" Six looked stunned, "What did you find?"

"Nothing." Baltar shrugged, "Oh, the file was there all right; a very big, very old and above all, very empty file." He started to walk around the room, alternately stepping in and out of the shadows, "Maybe I missed something, maybe they decided that what was in three was too dangerous to risk someone stumbling across by accident. For all I know, it might have been removed and hidden away on a shelf in some vault far below the Department of Defence headquarters in Caprica City, which was alas one of your first targets during the war."

"And for that we apologise unreservedly." Cavil bowed his head, "But it might still be of use: if the Thirteenth Tribe is used to dealing with non-human lifeforms than they won't have some of the same hang ups that the other tribes have when it comes to dealing with us."

"That is true." Three admitted, "But time is running short: the last thing we want id for Adama and Roslin to spend too much time alone with Dr Weir and the other humans. We should jump, now."

"By your command." Simon moved his hands over the controls, and there was the familiar feeling of the universe being pulled inside out as the Basestar jumped.

**

* * *

**

"Theyre' powering up their hyper-drives," Zelenka point at the screen and smiled as the blips indicating the Colonial fleet started to blink out, "and they're off!"

"The clock is running!" Carter looked at the other display, "One one-thousand... two one-thousand... three one-thousand... four one-thousand... five one-thousand..."

"The first ship is arriving now." Zelenka grinned as he looked at the screen, "Thirty light-years in five seconds!" He held out his hand, "Pay up."

"Son of a bitch!" Carter reluctantly handed over a Hershey Bar, "I could have sworn that they took longer than that to make the last jump!"

"They were jumping further that time." The Czech scientist stood, "Come on; we're going to be late."

**

* * *

**

"DRADIS confirms the rest of the fleet has made the jump successfully." Gaeta reported, "We're in stable orbit above Atlantis."

"Picking up a transmission from the city." Dee reported, "They welcome us, and are ready to started sending up what emergency supplies they have."

"Well that's some good news for a change." Tigh managed a faint smile, "When do they want us to land for these propitious peace talks?"

"Tomorrow morning; dawn, local time." Dee looked up, "They apologise for the late start, but they're holding a memorial service for Colonel Sheppard."

**

* * *

**

"I didn't know John Sheppard as well as some, but I'd like to think that I knew him well enough to call him my friend." Weir stood at the top of the steps leading up from the Stargate, the bulk of the expedition assembled below her, "He was perhaps the most infuriating, antagonistic and single minded man I have ever known, but was also fair, just and had a deep reserve of inner strength and integrity that we all drew on in times of need." She hesitated for a moment, then pulled a small, leather bound book from her pocket, "While going through his effects, I found this; it's an old copy of the collected works of the poet and writer Dylan Thomas. I saw that one of the poems had been marked, and I'd like to read it to you all now:"

"_Do not go gentle into that good night,  
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_Though wise men at their end know dark is right,  
Because their words had forked no lightning they  
Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright  
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,  
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,  
Do not go gentle into that good night._

_Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight  
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light._

_And you, my father, there on the sad height,  
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.  
Do not go gentle into that good night.  
Rage, rage against the dying of the light..._"

Weir stood at the podium, unable to continue until Teyla walked up to her and led her away. Caldwell walked over, dressed in his best dress uniform, cap under one arm.

"In his will, Colonel Sheppard requested that this song be played at his funeral." He signalled to the side, and Zelenka activated the PA system.

"_I was a highwayman. Along the coach roads I did ride  
With sword and pistol by my side  
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade  
Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade  
The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five  
But I am still alive..._"

**

* * *

**

"I want to remind everyone just how important today could be for the very future of our civilisation." President Roslin stood in front of her assembled team, "We have a lot of ground to make up, and the Cylons will be intent of turning the Thirteenth Tribe against us. We have to downplay our past mistakes, but do not lie: if asked a straight question, give as straight an answer as you can without compromising our security."

"I agree." Apollo nodded, "They seem a little hesitant, but they've not given us any reason not to trust them."

"Major, I still think you should sit this one out." The President looked at him, "I know that Captain Thrace was a close, personal friend of yours: I know how hard your farther is taking her death..."

"With all due respect, Madam President; I know what I can handle." The CAG shook his head, "Yes, Kara was a friend, but she was a pilot, and we all know that every time we go out might be our last. You should save your sympathies for her husband."

"I have spoken to Sam." Roslin nodded, "He seems to be taking it as well as anyone might expect."

"He was blind drunk last time I saw him." Tom Zarek shrugged, "Can't say I blame him."

"I really must insist you stay behind." Apollo looked at the vice-president, "Having both of you down on Atlantis at the same time is an unacceptable breach in protocol: if anything was to happen, we could lose our entire political leadership."

"That's what the Quorum of the Twelve is for." Zarek smiled, "Anyway, we all know that your father would be more than capable of taking over should anything happen to us. If anything, I'm more worried about you coming with us: I don't like the idea of Saul Tigh being three steps removed from the leadership of our people, not after last time."

"I think the Colonel's learnt his lessen after the last time." Roslin picked up the phone on her desk, "Tell the pilot we're ready to go."

**

* * *

**

"The Colonial delegation is making its way down now." Major Lorne reported, "I've cleared them to land on the North Pier."

"I'll send Mr Woolsey along with the security team to great them." O'Neill nodded, "What about our other guests?"

"The bulk of the Cylon fleet has stopped in a system ten light-years away; only one of their ships is in orbit, far side of the planet to the _Galactica_." Zelenka looked at the long-range sensor display, "I'm picking up over forty ships of several different classes. I can't tell them apart yet, but it looks like at least twenty five warships, five 'Resurrection Ships' and an collection of transports and support vessels."

"Hell of a lot of fire-power to send to a peace conference." Caldwell looked genuinely worried, "We'd best keep an eye on them; if they look like they're about to jump, I want you ready to engage the shields at a moments notice."

"And make sure someone with the ATA gene is in or near the drone control chair at all times." O'Neill nodded his agreement, "Anyone comes looking for trouble, I want to have a few nasty surprises waiting for them."

**

* * *

**

Woolsey watched with interest as the atmospheric shuttle carrying the Colonial delegation came in to land. It was a squat looking affair, not as visually pleasing as a Puddle Jumper or a Goa'uld shuttle; it looked more like something Earth would build. That said, the two _Viper_ fighters that had escorted it down looked decidable impressive as they roared overhead, their pilots concerning up the throttle in a show of respect.

A pair of USAF F-302 fighters followed them, the wedge shaped craft easily keeping up with their more streamlined counterparts.

The shuttle landed without a single bump, impressive considering how unwieldy it looked. There was a few moments rest as the engines powered down, then a door in the side opened, and two men dressed in suits stepped out. They surveyed the area, taking notice of Woolsey and the marines with him, before taking up position on either side of the doorway. The next man to step out was dressed in a dark-blue uniform with a golden embroiled patch on each shoulder and a set of gold wings on his left chest. He nodded to whoever was inside, then took a step further out, his eyes still surveying the scene to make sure nothing untoward happened.

Next came a red-haired woman of medium hight dressed in a black suit-dress with a white blouse. She had a politicians smile, but reminded Woolsey of one of his grade-school teachers somehow. She said something to the uniformed man and he nodded somewhat reluctantly as a second, slightly taller man with greying hair stepped into the light. He was dressed in a dark brown suit, and there were a few hits of grey in his otherwise black hair.

"On behalf of the people of Earth, I would like to welcome you to Atlantis." The IOA man greeted them, "My name is Richard Woolsey; I'll be assisting Dr Weir during the negotiations."

"Thank you, Mr Woolsey; it's an honour to be here." The woman shook his hand, "I'm Laura Roslin, president of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol. I'd like to introduce my vice-president, Tom Zarek." She gestured to the older man, who likewise shook Woolsey's hand, "And my military advisor, Major Lee Adama." She gestured to the uniformed officer, who nodded polity.

"A pleasure to meet you." Woolsey smiled, "If you'd like to follow me, we've arranged a short tour of the city before we begin the negotiations."

**To Be Continued...**

Time for another Q&A:

_**Q:** The Ori?  
_**A:** Mentioned in passing only. Even I'm not that vindictive.

_**Q:** Sheppard and Starbuck?  
_**A:** Well... ;)

_**Q:** Wraith ships with shields?  
_**A:** What? You think I'd put something like that in by accident? Have a little faith.

_**Q:** What ship are the Cylon's planning to give the Atlantis crew?  
_**A:** Well, that will be answered in the next chapter.

_**Q:** You went a little X-Files in this chapter, didn't you?  
_**A:** Yeah, so?

_**Q:** What was with the Country and Weston song at the funeral?  
_**A:** It's a canon fact that Sheppard's a Johnny Cash fan (mentioned in Season 3), and so am I. Got a problem with that?

_**Q:** No, no problem. What about your other stories?  
_**A:** All on the back burner, because I'm actually enjoying myself writing this one.


	11. Good Faith

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 11: Good Faith**

The city was dark; darker than it had been since they first found it. Even at night, there was still people working in the various labs and the control room was manned round the clock. But not it was deserted, a eerily quiet ghost town. Weir walked along the corridors, her footsteps echoing in the still air. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she felt the unmistakable sensation of someone watching her. She could her the faint sound of music from somewhere, but while the tune was familiar; like something half-remembered from childhood, she couldn't place it.

She made her way towards the gate-room, the city beginning to light up. Arriving by one of the side-passageways, she found the entire room bathed in light streaming down through the tall, stained-glass window. Two figures dressed in long robes stood at the top of the stair's, the bright light behind them making it impossible to make out just who they were. Yet she felt her earlier fears drift away as she slowly made her way across the room to the bottom of the steps. The music grew louder and clearer as she made her way up the steps until she was almost level with the two hooded strangers.

"Dr Weir?" Zelenka shook her shoulder, waking her from her dream with a start, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Weir sat up, rubbing her eyes, "Guess I was a little more tired than I thought."

"What was the song?" The scientist asked.

"What song?" She looked at him.

"You were humming a song." Zelenka shrugged, "I couldn't place it, but I know I've heard it somewhere before."

"I..." Weir blinked, "I don't remember." She looked at her watch, "I have to go; the negotiations start in less than an hour."

**

* * *

**

The Cylon Heavy Raider came in low over the sea, slow enough that O'Neill had time to make out the details before it came into land. Ugly was the first word that came to mind, but well designed and utilitarian. It come to a near instant stop before lowering gently to the deck, its rear hatch pointed towards the General and the rest of the escort party. There was a low wiring sound as the hatch lowered, and four people stepped into the sunlight.

O'Neill looked them over, putting names to faces based on what little information Dr Weir had been able to give him: the tall, leggy platinum-blond who looked like a catwalk model had to be the one known as Six, while the slightly shorter woman next to her with the dishwater-blond hair had to be Three. The older of the two men, with the greying hair and the weathered face had to be the one Weir had heard referred to as Cavil, while the younger man with the shoulder length hair and the neatly trimmed beard had to be Gaius Baltar, the former Colonial President who had gone over to the Cylons after the occupation of New Caprica.

Not for the first time, O'Neill wished that Weir had been able to give him more information than had been contained in her report, but he wasn't about to push a woman who'd just lost someone she cared about.

"Hi." O'Neill stepped forward, "I'm Major General Jack O'Neill: welcome to Atlantis."

**

* * *

**

"Rodney?" Carter stood in the doorway of one of the recreation areas.

"Oh, hi Sam." McKay looked over his shoulder to her, his voice lacking it's usual sarcastic humour.

"It's been a while." Carter started to cross the room, one eye on Ronon, who was standing against the wall to one side, his arms folded.

"Well, it's not like I can just pop round for a chat these days." McKay smiled, some of his usual snarkiness showing through, "It's good to see you again."

"It's good to be seen." Carter sat down opposite him, "Nice to finally get to see Atlantis first-hand."

"It's an amazing place." McKay agreed, "But I somehow don't think you're hear to discus Ancient architecture with me."

"Everyone's worried about you." Carter squeezed on of his hands, "What you went through..."

"They wouldn't listen, you see?" McKay looked up, his eyes full of pain and anguish, "I kept trying to tell them the truth, but they didn't want to listen. They're so scared of the Cylons that distrust has become part of their everyday life. Their anger is so great that they can't see beyond it."

"Anger can be like that." Carter nodded, "It's no excuse for what they did, but..."

"My last words to Sheppard, before he died, were in anger." McKay's face fell, "I never once told him how important his friendship was to me."

"I'm sure he knew." Carter looked round until she saw a chess set, "Fancy a game? I'm a little out of practice since Cassie went away to collage."

"You're a bad liar, Samantha Carter." McKay couldn't help but smile, "Yes, I'd love a game."

**

* * *

**

"And this is our infirmary." O'Neill led the Cylon delegation into the well lit and busy room, "And this is Atlantis', Chief Medical Officer, Dr Carson Becket."

"Hello." The Scotsman smiled, "Welcome to my little corner of the universe."

"It's very impressive." Cavil nodded in appreciation, "Do you really need so much equipment?"

"Well, while the expedition may only have a few hundred members, we also provide medical services for the Athosians living on the mainland." Becket explained, "We have to handle everything from the day-to-day injuries like sprains, cuts and the like, but due to our battles against the Wraith, among others, we also need to be ready to handle major medical emergencies like bullet wounds and trauma victims. We also have a large research department looking into what we can find in the cities database and Wraith physiology."

"All very interesting, but we don't have time to go into it right now." O'Neill gestured towards the door, "If you'd like to follow me..."

"I'd like to stay here for a while, if that is acceptable." Six look at the General, "I have some questions I'd like to ask the doctor."

"That's okay by me." Becket nodded, "I can show her to the conference room when we're done."

"Okay then." O'Neill nodded, "But no sightseeing on the way."

"Understood." Six nodded, then waited until the rest of the party had left before turning back to Becket, "You are trained to handle any medical condition and procedure?"

"Well, my speciality is genetics, but yes; I'm a fully qualified surgeon, among other things." Becket nodded, "Was there anything specific you wanted to ask."

"Yes, but not while the others were around." Six looked anxious, "Do you have the facilities to conduct a pregnancy test?"

**

* * *

"Sam?" Helo walked over to the bunk and pulled back the curtain; the man laying there was twitching in his sleep, "Sam?"**

"What!" Anders sat bolt upright, hitting his head against the bottom of the next bunk up, "Frack!"

"Sorry." Helo winced, "It sounded like you were having a bad dream."

"I was dreaming of Kara." Anders pulled himself out of the bunk, rubbing his forehead, "Of the time she was captured by the Cylons."

"I...I can't even begin to imagine what you're going through." Helo sat at the table in the middle of the bunk room, "If anything happened to Sharon, I don't know what I'd do."

"I suppose there are those who'd say it was my own fault." The former Pyramid player sighed, "She was a fighter pilot: I knew from the moment she returned to active duty that every time she went out could be the last time I ever saw here."

"But Starbuck was special." Helo nodded, "Of all of us, I always thought she'd be the one to come through all of this without a scratch." He stood and headed for the door, stooping at the hatch, "There's an Oracle living down in Dogsville named Yolanda Brenn: maybe you should go see here."

"I'll think about it." Anders reached for his boots, "But I've got other things to do today."

**

* * *

**

Weir looked around the hastily prepared conference room: it was large and well lit by the floor to ceiling windows that covered the rear wall wall. Tables had been set out in the same u-shape as they had on the _Galactica_, but this time she would be sitting at the top table. The Athosians had managed to come up with covers for the utilitarian tables, and the soft autumn colours adding the necessary touch of formality to the setting. Behind the head table someone had arranged a pair of flags: one the right was blue and white flag of the United Nations, while on the left was the multi-coloured Stargate Command crest. Sitting before the middle seat was a plaque that read _Dr Elizabeth Weir: Tau'ri_.

To what would be her right was the table set out for the Colonials, opposite the Cylon table. Each had a pitcher of ice-water and a several glasses ready, but they had been unable to arrange flags or name plates as they didn't know who would be representing the two sides. Weir only hoped that it was enough: in all her years working to bring peace to her own home world, she'd never imagined that she'd have to face something like this.

"Tau'ri?" Roslin asked from the doorway.

"A word used by many of our allies to describe the people of Earth: we thought it would be best to clearly define who is representing who." Weir explained as she walked over, "Welcome to Atlantis, Madam President."

"Believe me; it is more than an honour to be here." The Colonial leader smiled, "Our Sacred Scrolls talk of a city called Atlantis, but I for one always thought it was a myth."

"That's something I'd like to get to the bottom of when this is all over." Her host nodded, "Just what is going on with your history and it's references to Earth."

"I do hope we're not interrupting anything?" Cavil asked as he walked in, followed by the rest of his party and their guards, "Not to sound paranoid, but one wouldn't like to think that you were seeking an unfair advantage."

"I assure you that all we are interested in is a peaceful settlement to the war." Weir stated, "If you'd like to take your seats..."

"There is just one thing, before we start." Cavil looked at Three, who nodded, "Like any good guest, we come bearing gifts. Two gifts, to be exact: one for the people of Earth, as a token of good will, and another for the Colonials, to prove that we are willing to enter into these negotiations honestly and with only the highest intentions."

"Now who's trying to seek an unfair advantage?" Apollo asked rhetorically.

"Then perhaps it would be best if we give you your gift first?" Three asked, "We have two long-range transports one jump away from here; they contain all the food and medical supplies we agreed to hand over, as well as 1,701 Colonial citizens from the Twelve Colonies and New Caprica."

"My Gods!" Roslin gasped, "So few..."

"There were, complications." Cavil sighed, "I regret to inform you all that the Wraith now know the location of the Twelve Colonies and now control them. We were barely able to get away with what we did." He looked Roslin in the eye, "We sacrificed our own to get your people out as a token of good will."

"One we are only too happy to accept." Zarek nodded, trying to turn the act against the Cylons, "Tell us; are they all from your 'Farms'?"

"Most of them, yes." Three admitted, "But we still risked everything to bring them here."

"I don't want to sound like a materialistic weasel here, but what do we get?" O'Neill asked.

"A prize of war; something we have been keeping hidden for forty years, but have fully repaired and refitted." Three smiled coyly, "To the people of Earth, we off the gift of the original Battlestar _Pegasus_."

**To Be Continued...**


	12. What Price Peace?

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 12: What Price Peace?**

"Well this is a little disconcerting." Caldwell walked into the main lab to find Carter, McKay, Zelenka and Hermiod all standing round looked downcast, "What's wrong? Major Lorne just said that you wanted to see me."

"We have been examining our reading from our battle against the Wraith Cruiser." Hermiod explained, "We can now confirm that the ship was equipped with a very basic shield system."

"And we mean basic." Carter nodded, "Less powerful than the Goa'uld developed from reverse-engined Ancient technology, but it is still a worrying development."

"I'll say: our main tactical advantage has always been our ability to withstand their attacks long enough to destroy their ships." Caldwell agreed, "If they start equipping their ships with any form of defensive shields, then we could be in real trouble."

"There is one bright spark on the horizon." McKay smiled, "We know from our last encounter with Lieutenant Ford that the Wraith are fractured; fighting what can only be described as a Civil War, with the different Hives forming lose alliances. With this is mind, we can speculate that very few ships will have been equipped with shields. I think, and the others agree, that we should make finding and destroying these ships a priority."

"I'm inclined to agree with you, but we must proceed carefully." Caldwell rubbed his chin, "If the other Hives discover that we're specificity targeting these upgraded ships, then they might work out just why we want them destroyed."

"We should proceed with caution." Hermiod agreed, "The Wraith were able to defeat the Ancients through by their superior numbers to over come much more superior technology. If we loose the one advantage that we have, then the _Daedalus_ can not be expected to survive battle against them."

"Unless you're willing to give us Asgard weapons." Caldwell asked hopefully, then shook his head, "I know, I know: you don't want to hand over anything that could be used against you."

"That position may change." Hermiod admitted, "Supreme Commander Thor has indicated that the High Council consider the Wraith to be a threat to all sentient life."

"Well that's a refreshing change." McKay smirked.

"Indeed:as backwards as your race maybe, the Tau'ri have proven that you can be trusted." The Asgardian engineer nodded, "You may indeed one day become the Fifth Race."

**

* * *

**

"Can we just make one thing perfectly clear here before everybody starts shouting and yelling?" O'Neill raised a hand in question, "You, the Cylons, are giving us, the people of Earth, a big, honking huge starship that we can do with as we please? Like say: rip out and replace the engines, upgrade the weapons, add shield generates and re-arrange the fighter bays to handle 302's?"

"Yes." Cavil nodded, "Despite the loss of almost half our fleet battling the Wraith, we have no need for the _Pegasus_."

"Okay; just wanted to be clear on that." O'Neill turned to Weir and Woolsey, "We're keeping it: end of discussion. Too many times we've gotten our hands on some really cool ship only to have it blown up, shot down, crashed into something or otherwise destroyed. I am not letting you do that to me again." He grabbed Woolsey by the collar, "I want my big honking spaceship! _Is that too much to ask?_"

"Evidently not." The diplomat cringed slightly.

"What do you mean, the Battlestar _Pegasus_?" Apollo asked, "She was destroyed."

"That is just what we wanted you to think: we captured her just before the end of the first Human/Cylon war." Three explained, "We kept her, hidden away from any prying eyes. At first we used her to test new tactics and weapons, but then as you developed newer, more powerful ships, we converted her for orbital storage. It wasn't until the _Galactica_ proved such a problem, despite literally being a museum piece, that we started re-commissioning her. She was completed just before the Wraith attacked."

"But she's our ship!" Roslin objected, "We built her, and we need her; we only have one Battlestar left."

"Not my problem." O'Neill smirked, "Now I give you my word that no matter what happens, we'll protect you while you're here, and maybe even help you find a new planet to live on somewhere nice and safe. But they gave the ship to us, and we're going to keeping it. I am, as head of Homeworld Security, personally responsible for every single one of the six-billion people living on Earth, not to mention our commitments across two galaxies. Add to that, I don't like you: you tortured McKay. Okay, I may have fantasied about killing him from time to time, but that was just daydreams; I'd never hurt the guy." He turned to Weir and Woolsey, "I'm going to go before I say anything else that makes your job here harder than it already is. If anyone wants me, I'll be introducing Thor to the concept of '_Pimp My Ride_'. Good day."

There was an unmistakable spring in the Generals step as he walked off, punching the air as he passed through the doorway.

"Is he always like that?" Baltar asked.

"Regrettably." Woolsey admitted, "But he is right: we will be keeping the _Pegasu_s. Our fleet is over stretched and the Cylons did give her to us."

"Moving swiftly on." Weir smiled, "If you'd like to take your seat, we can get started."

**

* * *

**

"Well, as far as I can tell, you're about nine weeks pregnant." Becket looked over the test results, "The foetus seems to be healthy, but I can only make an educated guess as I've never dealt with a Cylon pregnancy before."

"It's half human." Six explained, "You should contact the _Galactica's_ CMO, Dr Cottle: he has experience dealing with human/cylon hybrid pregnancies."

"Well, I'm due to visit the _Galactica_ later today." Becket looked at his watch, "Was there any reason you didn't want to bring this up in front of the others?"

"I am unsure how they will respond to the news." Six looked worried, "For my people, procreation is something that can only ever happen when two people love one another. I'm not even sure the father knows the true depth of his feelings for me just yet."

"Well, anything you tell me will be treated in the strictest confidence, unless it poses a threat to the safety of Atlantis." Becket reassured her, "But I do think you should see one of your own Doctors as soon as possible: they will have a better idea of what to expect."

"We have no doctors, as you would understand them." Six shook her head, "Any major injury is normally dealt with by euthanasia: the affected Cylon being resurrected into a new, healthy body. And as we are 'born' in an adult form, fully grown, we have no paediatric knowledge what so ever." She cocked her head to the side, "That is the other thing: Hera Agathon is ill. We don't know why and have been unable to treat her. Would you be willing to look at her?"

"If anyone is ill, then I will treat them." Becket nodded, "I am first and foremost a Doctor; I have sworn an oath to keep the good of the patient as the highest priority. If there is a patient before me, be they Human, Cylon or other, I will do my very best to help them."

"Thank you. And it is not very often I say that to a human." Six nodded, "I will do my best to have Hera brought down immediately."

**

* * *

**

"Damn this place is big..." Chief Tyrol looked around in awe.

His deck crew had been called on to help arrange the transfer of the urgently needed medical and food supplies up to the orbiting ships. Weir had done her best to make sure that they had everything that Atlantis could spare, and had sent out requests to their allies for more, offering well above market value for a speedy delivery to a pre-arranged pick-up point. Teams in Puddle Jumpers had been going back and forth all day, returning with grain, fruit and salted meat for the hungry Colonials.

"Greetings; I am Teyla Emmagan." A well toned woman of medium hight approached the deck-gang down a flight of steppes, "Dr Weir asked me to assist you with the loading of supplies."

"Galen Tyrol, at your service." The Chief nodded, "We're all more than thankfully for any help."

"Understandable." Ronon appeared out of no where, the hilt of his sword-like knife poking out from behind his back and his energy pistol at his hip, "Kind of like you helped Dr McKay?"

"Ronon!" Teyla snapped, "Now is not the time or place to discuss that."

"You said your name was Tyrol." The big Satedan ignored the remark, "Any relation to Cally?"

"I'm her husband: she's back on the Galactica, looking after our son." Tyrol nodded, "Why?"

"Because we treated her a hell of a lot better than you treated McKay!" Ronon snarled, leaning closer, "How does that make you feel?"

"**RONON!**" Teyla pulled the much taller man back, "If you can not act in a civil manor then I have no further need of your assistance."

"As you wish." Her team-mate turned and walk off.

"Is he always like that?" Tyrol asked once the other man was safely out of ear-shot.

"Ronon's home world was Culled by the Wraith; his entire society wiped out, his wife killed." Teyla explained, "He then spent several years as a Runner: a human set free by the Wraith just to be hunted down again and again across the entire galaxy. For pleasure, training or some kind of ritual, we do not know. He was unable to stay anywhere for long, less he bring the Wraith down upon another world: it wasn't until Dr Becket removed the tracking device in his shoulder that he was able to rest. Since then, he has become a valued member of the expedition: I believe that he has come to look on us as his family."

"You don't sound like the others." Tyrol looked at her, "Or dress like them, for that matter."

"I thought that you were a married man?" Teyla smiled, a humerus look on her face, "I am from a world here in the Pegasus galaxy called Athos: my people were the first the the expedition made contact with after arriving from Earth. We suffered a savage culling shortly after, and were granted sanctuary. At first here in the City of the Ancestors, but we have since moved to the mainland, not far from here."

"You called Atlantis the 'City of the Ancestors'?" Tyrol asked, "Do you believe in the Lords of Kobol?"

"I will be more than happy to discus my peoples faith with you, while we transfer the supplies to your ships." Teyla gestured towards the nearby doorway, "Shall we?"

**

* * *

**

"Well, that's an improvement." Weir sighed with relief: the Colonials and Cylons had spent the first hour of the negotiations arguing over who was responsible for the war. It had taken all her skill and experience to convince them that it just didn't matter any more. "Now, what we really need an agreement on is continuing the existing ceasefire into something more permanent."

"We are willing to continue the ceasefire." Six nodded, having been playing catch-up since her late arrival, "As you are all aware, we have only one ship in orbit at this time, and we have kept it far away from the Colonials."

"We also agree to maintaining the ceasefire." Roslin agreed, "From the day we left the Twelve Colonies behind, we have been trying to leave the war behind. It was the Cylons who followed us."

"We knew that, in time, you would rebuild and attempt to attack us." Cavil shrugged, "Would you leave a deadly enemy at your back?"

"No." The Colonial President admitted.

"Well that's something you agree on." Woolsey smiled wearily, "What we need to do now is agree to a peace treaty that is acceptable to both sides. You have both admitted that the last war never truly ended: it was just a prolonged ceasefire. It would be best if we did not repeat the same mistake."

"We have repeated too many mistakes." Three nodded in agreement, "The Cylon Race is more than willing to sign a peace treaty, as long as Laura Roslin is held accountable for her actions and the actions of those under her direct command during her tenure as President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol!" She stood, leaning forward across the desk, "We demand a war-crimes tribunal!"

**To Be Continued...**

_One member who failed to learn from the mistakes of others has found themselves blocked from posting further reviews._

_You were the Weakest Link; Goodbye!_


	13. The Enemy Of My Enemy

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 13: The Enemy Of My Enemy **

"Hermiod! Excellent!" O'Neill walked into the main lab, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "You've scanned the _Galactica_?"

"Indeed." The Asgardian engineer nodded.

"How much of an improvement could we make on her using technology that Earth has access to?" The General asked, "If, for instance, we were given a ship of the same type."

Hermiod looked at him for a moment with a blank expression, then called up a schematic of the orbiting Battlestar on the screen that dominated one wall, "The basic frame of the _Galactica_ is utilitarian but surprisingly well designed: the entire ship is a honeycomb of cross-brasses under two layers of highly dense armour. The inner armour belt appears to be integral, while the outer belt is ablative armour that can absorb impacts by shedding the outermost layer. Between the two is a gap that allows any energy that gets through the outer layers to be dispersed over a much larger area. This said, the _Galactica_ seems to be missing most of its ablative armour, and what remains has been hit repetitively by nuclear weapons. The main armament consists of kinetic energy weapons much larger and more powerful than those found on your _Daedalus_ class Battlecruisers, but the secondary armament and fire-control systems are antiquated, even by your standards. The sub-light drives are horrendously over-sized for the thrust they provide, and could easily be upgraded to make the ship much faster and more manoeuvrable. The FTL drive is interesting: while much faster than any other known Hyperdrive over short distances, there is an inerrant limit to how far it go before any error in the calculations become dangerous. The computer systems are laughable, but are obliviously intended to be resilient to invasive computer viruses." He looked up, "Given the necessary resources and knowledge, I predict that it would take you at least one Earth year to make any meaningful upgrades."

"Crap." O'Neill face fell, "I was kind of worried you'd say that."

"What's going on, Sir?" Carter asked.

"The Cylons are giving us a Battlestar that they captured years ago." O'Neill explained, "I was kind of looking forward to finally having a really big honking spaceship next time we ran into something nasty."

"There may be a way to speed up the process." Hermiod raised a finger, "Supreme Commander Thor has managed to convince the Asgard High Council that the Tau'ri can be trusted. With our losses against the Replicator's not made up yet, we are stretched to fulfil our obligations under the Protected Planets Treaty. Were Earth to agree to help us, he might be able to convince them that you can be trusted with more advanced technology and assistance."

"So we agree to take over the protection of more planets, and you'll re-fit our new Battlestar for us?" O'Neill asked.

"It is a possibility." The engineer nodded.

"I call dibs on getting to take apart the FTL drive." Carter smiled, "You did promise."

"I said that if you were a good little girl, then maybe Santa would get you one for Christmastime." The General smiled, "Just how good have you been?"

**

* * *

**

Three's words hung heavy in the air surprising even her fellow Cylons.

Weir didn't know what to say: if the Cylon's were demanding a War Crimes Tribunal after attempting to commit Genocide, then they must have something major to use against Roslin.

"May I suggest a short recess?" Six asked, dawning shocked looks from her fellow Cylons, but she met their eyes and refused to back down.

"Agreed." Weir stood, "We'll meet back here in an hour."

Six waited until almost everyone had left the room before speaking again, "Dr Weir, President Roslin; if I could speak to the two of you for a moment? Alone?" Baltar gave her a inquisitive look, but she shook her head, indicating that he too should leave the room.

The doors closed with the finality of a descending judges gavel, leaving the three women alone.

"I would like to apologise for D'Anna's outburst." Six sighed, "She has been, different, since New Caprica. All of the Three's have; we are worried that there may be a problem with that model."

"A problem?" Roslin asked.

"She has become," Six struggled to find the right words, "withdrawn, distant; obsessed with things that the rest of use believe are best left well alone."

"Like the Final Five?" The Colonial President asked, "Lieutenant Agathon explained."

"Yes, among other things." Six nodded, "She is isolated, but gaining power: she may soon have enough votes to threaten the change in our police towards humans that I was able to archive. As it is, she has already managed to turn the one you knew as Sharon Valerii against me."

"Boomer?" Roslin asked, "What has she got to do with this?"

"After her 'death' on the _Galactica_, she was resurrected back on Caprica." Six explained, "At first, she refused to believe that she was a Cylon; she moved back into the apartment that she had lived in, shunning any contact with her own people. I was, as the other so-called 'war-hero' to try and talk her into reintegrating into Cylon society, but instead I discovered that we had a lot in common. I'm sure that if you ask Samuel Anders, that he will be able to tell you about the exact moment that we first decided that the extermination of the human race was wrong." She shook her head, "But that is a story for another time: what matters now is concluding the peace talks before D'Anna can derail them any further."

"That would be preferable." Weir nodded, "Do you have a plan?"

"Yes; I need you to stipulate that any peace treaty brokered by Earth must include a blanket amnesty for any and all actions taken during the war." Six looked at the expedition leader, "The others will agree to that if they think that it is their best chance of peacefully co-existence with the Thirteenth Tribe." She looked at Roslyn, "I know this will be hard to sell to your people, but it may be the only way to avoid further fighting. And with the threat of the Wraith hanging over us, that is a battle neither side can afford."

"To quote one of Earth's great leaders, '_We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately_'." Weir lamented, "I have never agreed with the concept of Peace At Any Price, but if the last two years have taught my anything, it's how to be a pragmatist." She nodded her consent, "So be it."

I suppose that the old phrase '_better the devil you know than the devil you don't_' is appropriate." Roslin agreed, "But under the sole condition that Dr Baltar is kept as far away from any planet we settle on as possible."

"I think I can assure you that Gaius is about to become more than a little pre-occupied." Six smiled coyly, then tuned to Weir, "And that brings me to the second point I wish to raise: when this is all over, I request asylum for both Gaius and myself."

**

* * *

**

Becket could only look on in awe as the _Galactica_ grew ever bigger in the Puddle Jumpers window: he'd seen it from the _Daedalus_ and had taken note of its size from the scans, but that was nothing compared to seeing it up close and personal. It dwarfed even the largest ships ever built on Earth; making the few starships they had built look like a child's toy in comparison. Even his untrained eyes could pick out the weapons emplacements as they passed along its length before coming about to approach the landing bay. He tore his eyes away for a moment to look at the other ships in its rag-tag fleet: 60 ships of almost as many types and designs hung in orbit above Atlantis, stretching as far as the eye could see.

"That's a bloody lot of ships..." The doctor swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry: the _Odyssey_ had brought more medical supplies from Earth, but with over 40,000 people to deal with, he doubted that that would even cover a fraction of the fleet.

"Coming into land now." The pilot informed him as the Jumper passed into the cavernous landing bay.

Becket nodded and looked over his shoulder: the aft section of the jumper had been filled floor to ceiling with medical supplies and equipment, with just enough room for someone to squeeze through to the hatch at the rear. In truth, his main priority was to get a basic idea of Colonial medical knowledge and needs on this first trip. Actually helping the refuges would come later, when they knew just where their limited supplies could be put the the best use.

There was a dull thud as the Jumper touched down, and the lift mechanism began to lower them into the hanger deck below. Despite the time and effort it took, Becket preferred this to using the Asgard transporters: he still had reservations about being broken down into his component atoms before being converted into pure energy and being moved at the speed of light by a process that be couldn't even begin to understand.

The inner airlock door opened, and Becket got his first good look at the interior of the _Galactica_: it lacked the flowing lines of Atlantis, closer in design to the _Daedalus_ or _Odyssey_. Members of the deck gang moved about, their brightly coloured uniforms a stark contrast to the dull greys of the deck and bulkheads. The Jumper came to a stop, and the rear hatch lowered. Becket made his way past the stacks of supplies and out onto the _Galactica's_ deck.

"Dr Becket, I assume?" A tall man with close-cropped hair asked, "Captain Karl Agathon, at your service."

"A pleasure to meet you, Captain." The Scotsman shook the other man's hand, "I suppose that the first order of business would be to talk to your own chief Medical Officer."

"That would be Dr Cottle." Helo nodded, "He's over in the other flight-pod with Dr. Robert: we had to move several thousand refuges over to there after couple a few ships a while ago."

"Well then lead on." Becket nodded, "I take it that your people can see to the unloading of the supplies we brought with us?"

"Cally should be along shortly to see to that." Helo nodded, extending an arm towards a nearby hatch "If you'd like to follow me."

**

* * *

**

"Okay." Weir looked at the reassembled delegates, "After much careful consideration and discussion, it has been decided that it is, at this time, impossible to impeach President Roslin for war-crimes: as the elected head of a sovereign nation, she has diplomatic immunity from prosecution. We also believe that such a requirement of a peace treaty involving Earth would be unacceptable to our superiors." She took a deep breath, "The war between your two peoples has been waging now for over forty years: most of the people fighting it now weren't even born when it started. I ask you, please, let the war end here and now with no further bloodshed. You say you seek to defend your peoples, and that is the same ideal that drives me, but remember this: for everything there is a time, and now is the time for peace. Too much blood has already been split: peace can only prosper where hatred has given way to acceptance; anger to understanding."

"On behalf of the Cylon Alliance,"Six stood slowly, "I agree to the Peace Treaty as it has been outlined here."

"As duly elected President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol," Roslin likewise stood, "I agree to the Peace Treaty between my people and the Cylons Alliance."

"Excellent." Woolsey placed three copies of the treaty on the table, "If you would like to now come up for the signing of the Treaty, with Dr Weir signing on behalf of the people of the Tau'ri."

Roslin approached the head table and using a pen provided by her Vice-President, signed each copy of the treaty. Six followed suit, using a pen lent to her by Baltar, before Weir used her own pen to add the last signature. The air of tension that had been hanging over the room from the very beginning seemed to evaporate with each pen stroke, leaving only the bright sunlight filtering in through the high windows.

"Let the bells ring out and the banners fly." Woolsey took a step back as the final signature was added, "The war between the Twelve Colonies of Kobol and the Cylon Alliance is ended."

"So Say We All." Roslin nodded.

"Peace." Six smiled to herself.

**To Be Continued...**

_Act One is over, but Fat Lady isn't ready to start singing just yet..._


	14. Not Quite Winning The Peace

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 14: Not Quite Winning The Peace**

"So, the race that the people of Earth call The Ancients, your people call The Ancestors?" Tyrol asked, "Then it must be strange for you, living in Atlantis."

"I will admit that, like most of my people, I was a little hesitant at first." Teyla nodded as she helped loaded the atmospheric shuttle with supplies, "But having spent time here, I believe that I understand the Ancestors better. Having seen what they can do, what they have become, it no longer seems strange to be here."

"I can't imagine how I would have felt if we'd settled on Kobol." Tyrol shuddered with the memory, "We lost so many people there; I could never have called it home."

"It is important to feel safe and secure." Teyla agreed as she lifted the last box into place, "I suppose that I will have more time to spend with my people now."

"What do you mean?" The Colonial NCO asked.

"With Colonel Sheppard dead and Dr McKay, unwell, the team I am a member of is being disbanded." Teyla shrugged, "Who knows: maybe I will go to Earth and see it for myself."

"Why haven't you been there before?" Tyrol looked confused.

"It takes a lot of energy to establish a wormhole to another galaxy, so we only do so sparingly." The Athosian leader wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand, "And it normally takes eighteen days for a ship to travail from Earth to Atlantis or back again."

"Did yo just say that Earth is in another Galaxy?" Tyrol drooped the clipboard he was holding.

* * *

"Dear God in Heaven..." stopped dead when he saw the shanty town that had been set up in a disused part of the _Galactica's_ starboard landing pod: it looked like something out of the Third World, not a technologically advanced race that had mastered space flight.

He then mentally kicked himself: Earth had mastered space flight, but there were still countless millions living in similar conditions there.

"We had to pass through a star field recently." Helo explained, "The _Galactica_ was the only ship with adequate shielding to protect everyone, so we transferred the refuges across to here before sending the other ships through with skeleton crews, guided by _Raptors_. Unfortunately, we lost a few ships, and couldn't find room for everyone on those that made it through."

"This is just...unacceptable." Becket pulled his radio and switched it on, "This is Dr Becket to Atlantis; come in please."

"_We read you, Carson._" Zelenka answered, "_Is everything okay?_"

"No, everything is not bloody well okay!" The Scotsman responded, "How many people can Atlantis hold?"

"_Theoretically; maybe a million._" Zelenka mused, "_But that is with three fully charged ZPM's._"

"I'm not asking for a million, but I'm looking at thousands of people up here living in unsanitary conditions who are going to start dying if we don't do something." Becket looked round, "How long would it take for us to prepaid a couple of the unused towered for habitation? I'm talking just the basics; running water, heat and light."

"_A few days._" The Czech Physicist thought about it for a moment, "_Most of the systems are automatic: if we had more ZPM's, they could be ready almost immediately. As it is, we'll have to take people off other projects to get the work done; we're still a little short staffed down here._"

"Hold on a moment." Becket turned to Helo, "Can you organise some work parties to help set up some temporary accommodation?"

"I'll need the Admiral's okay, but I don't see a problem." The Captain nodded.

"Then go get it." Becket lifted the radio back up, "Okay Radek, this is what I'm going to need you to tell Dr Weir..."

* * *

"Okay, let's get a move on." Cally watched as crew members formed a human chain to offload the medical supplies stacked up in the back of the Puddle Jumper, "Dr Cottle is going to want these over in the other landing pod as soon as possible."

taking a step back into the cockpit, she brushed against the controls and was surprised when they came to life. The HUD flicked on, displaying information about the Galactica and the other ships in orbit of Lantea, including the two ships supposable hidden in the planets magnetic field. She looked at them, and was surprised when the display zoomed in to shop the ships in more detail, complete with detailed information that she couldn't understand.

"What are you doing?" The ship's pilot asked, "You shouldn't be in here!"

"Sorry." Cally stepped away from the controls and the HUD blinked off, "I was overseeing the offloading..."

"Get out!" The Air Force officer snapped, "NOW!"

Cally shot past him and out onto the landing bay, thankful to have the familiar cold deck under her feet again. Her mind kept going over what she'd seen: she couldn't make out what it was all about, but she had a very good idea who could, and head off towards the CIC.

Inside the cockpit, the pilot watched her go. Hissing under his breath, he reached for his radio, "Mitchell to O'Neill; we may have a situation..."

**

* * *

**

"The question of just who and what the Lords of Kobol were remains." Weir stood behind her desk, looking at Roslin and Apollo, "The evidence that we have here on Atlantis points to them being members of the race we know as The Ancients."

"They were Gods." The Colonial president insisted, "I have total faith in that."

"You'll forgive me if I lack such belief." Weir responded dryly, "But there is one way to answer this one way or the other: we ask."

"Are you suggesting we prey?" Apollo asked.

"No; I'm thinking something a little more direct." Weir smiled, "We know where one of the Ancients is: I think we should go ask her directly."

"You know where to find the people that built this city?" Roslin looked shocked, "Why aren't they here?"

"They ascended to a higher plain of resistance." Weir looked out of the open door, "Dr Jackson; perhaps you could explain this better?"

"Explain what?" The Archaeologist asked.

"Ascension and being Ascended." The expedition leader explained, sitting back, "After all, you do have personal experience."

"Yes." Jackson nodded, "How best to explain this?" He thought for a moment, "Okay; as humans we exist as physical beings in the four dimensions of space-time as we understand it. However, beings that manage to ascend pass beyond the need for a physical form and become beings of pure energy. This can be attained one of three ways: you can grow as a spiritual, moral being until the point where you reach enlightenment. Your body can evolve to the point where you natural reach the point of ascension; normally around the time that you start to use almost all of your brains mental capabilities. Or, under certain extreme conditions, you can be ascended by the assistance of a being who has already reached the state, as has happened to me. Twice, to be exact."

"You existed as being of energy?" Apollo asked sceptically, "Why?"

"The only other option both times was death." Jackson explained, "First time I was dying of radiation poisoning, the second time was when a ship I was on was destroyed in space."

"I don't understand." Roslin looked more confused than before, "You're standing here before us now; a living, breathing human being."

"Yeah; that." Jackson nodded sheepishly, "There are certain rules you have to live by if you're an Ascended being; mainly, you shouldn't interfere in the affairs of unascended races. But I couldn't stand aside and let my friends die. For that I was cast out and returned to human form. Two years later, I was re-ascended to an intermediary level for a short time to help a friend find a way to circumnavigate the rules a little, thus saving all life in the Milky Way Galaxy." He shrugged, "I've still got a lot to do, but maybe one day I'll be able to ascend again."

"I'm sorry to interrupt." Zelenka appeared in the doorway, "We have a couple of problems."

"Define 'problems'?" Weir asked, already feeling a headache forming at the back of her head.

"Well, it started when Dr Becket asked me to prepare the city to hold thousands of Colonial refuges." He explained, "Then escalated slightly when General O'Neill got into an argument over the radio with someone on the _Galactica_ called Colonel Tigh: the last thing I heard was something about seeing how effective the cities shields would be against sustained bombardment..."

"Oh boy." Jackson berried his head in his hands, "Jack's not been in a good mood since we found out about McKay."

"It's one thing after another with this job." Weir stood, "I did not end one war just so I could be here at the start of another."

"Agreed." Roslin stood, "If you could point me towards a wireless of some description, I need to remind Colonel Tigh just who he takes his orders from."

**

* * *

**

The was a swagger in Six's step as she made her way though the Battlestar: ending the war and making peaceful contact with the fabled Thirteenth Tribe of man had re-cemented her position in her people's hierarchy. She may never have heard of Machiavelli or Byzantium, but she understood all to well that her current position of power and influence would only last so long, and she had to move fast to get the rest of her plan in action before D'Anna rallied her remaining support and moved against her.

Her mood changed when she reached the room reserved for Hera: D'Anna and Boomer were already there, trying to comfort the crying infant, with no success.

"She is still ill?" Six's question was more of a statement, but she needed to ask it in order to steer the conversation in the direction she wanted.

"Regrettably." D'Anna nodded, "We have tried everything we can think of, but nothing..."

"It does not matter." Six walked over the the crib, "Dr Becket has agreed to look at her, if we take her down to Atlantis."

"You trust him?" Boomer asked.

"I see no need not to." Six shrugged, "He has stated that he will treat any patient presented to him, and I believe I know enough about how the human mind works to tell that he was telling the truth."

"You exceeded your authority." D'Anna protested, "And this time you have gone too far..."

"Then I guess there's no reason to hold back now." Six sighed.

The gun appeared in her hand as if by magic. Her arm came up, the weapon just an extension of her will, stopping when it was pointed between the eyes of the other Cylon. Without even a moments hesitation, she pulled the trigger, shooting her opponent through the head at point blank range.

"What in God's name are you doing?" Boomer yelled.

"What I know is right." Six held out her free hand, "Give Hera to me."

"No!" Boomer took a step back, "I'd kill her first..."

"That I can not allow." Six's eyes narrowed, "Hera must be kept safe."

"What's going on in here?" Baltar appeared behind Boomer, distracting her ling enough for Six to pull the trigger. The former Colonial President could only look on in horror as the back of Boomer's head was splattered across the wall next to him.

"Excellent timing, Gaius." Six moved with inhuman speed, grabbing Hera before Boomer's body fell, "We need to go, now."

"Go?" Baltar looked at her, eyes still wide in shock, "Go where?"

"To Atlantis." Six smiled, taker his hand with hers, "And then, Earth."

**To Be Continued...**

_You guys need to show a little more faith in my abilities as a writer.  
__Did any of you truly think that I'd end things there?_


	15. A Line In The Sand

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 15: A Line In The Sand**

"Oh yeah?" O'Neill leaded down across the control panel so his face was only inches from the radio microphone, "**WELL WHY DON'T YOU COME DOWN HERE AND SAY THAT?**"

"General?" Weir stood behind him, arms crossed across her chest and with a very unhappy look on her face, "Something wrong?"

"Huh?" O'Neill shot bolt upright, feeling very much like he'd just been caught writing a rood word on the blackboard by his First Grade teacher, "No, nothing wrong..."

"So you weren't just shouting at a Colonial officer over the radio?" Weir continued to look at him with the same, fix expression, similar to the type that would be used if you came in to find a puppy sitting next to an expanding puddle, "Nothing of that sort?"

O'Neill mumbled something under his breath, refusing to look her in the eye.

"What was that?" Weir asked, taking a step forward.

"He started it." O'Neill backed up, "They found out about Thor and the _Odyssey_ and got a little upset."

"And you responded how exactly?" Weir asked, enjoying the pained expression on her superiors face.

"I may have threatened to shoot the _Galactica_ down..." O'Neill looked at his feet, "I shouldn't have done that, should I?"

"Probably not." Weir turned to face Roslin, "I apologise: we kept the ship General O'Neill used to reach Atlantis hidden in case we needed it. But now that the Peace Treaty is signed, I think we should introduce you to some of our friends." She looked across to Zelenka, "If you could ask Thor to join us." The Czech scientist nodded and turned back to his controls.

"Oh crap!" A voice came from the back of the room, "Hasn't anyone been watching this?"

The crowed of people filling the room parted, allowing Weir a clear view of McKay, who was standing in front of the Deep Space scanners. He turned to face her, cocking a thumb at the display, "We have four Hive-Ships less then two week out."

"'Crap' indeed." A new voice agreed and everyone turned to find Thor standing in the doorway to Weir's office, "I was told you wanted to see me?"

Roslin's jaw dropped: she'd heard the stories, but had always put them down to hysteria, optical illusions or attention seeking. After all, the Twelve Colonies had had space travel for almost a hundred years, and no one had ever come up with any hard evidence for the existence of sentient non-human life anywhere in the galaxy, not counting their one encounter with the Wraith.

"Thor, I'd like you to meet Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol." Weir smiled, "Madam President, I'd like you to meet Commander Thor of the Asgard."

"_Supreme_ Commander." The short grey alien pointed out with a raised finger, before walking over to Roslin, "I welcome you in the name of the Asgard High Council."

"Thank you..." The Colonial President nodded slowly, "You're...not human..."

"How very astute of you." O'Neill smirked, earning himself a kick in the shin from Weir.

"Perhaps we should continue this else where?" Thor suggested.

"Good idea." Weir agreed, "My office?"

"Okay..." Roslin looked like she was sleepwalking as she made her way back into the office, followed closely by Weir and Thor.

"That was..." Apollo watched them through the open window, "He's a..."

"Have you got a spare time dilation field?" O'Neill asked Hermiod, who had just walked in, "Because this is going to take a while..."

**

* * *

**

"I take it you have a very good explanation for your actions?" Cavil stood leaning against the side of a captured Colonial _Raptor_, "Or should we just go straight to Boxing you?"

"You know that she was out of control." Six handed Hare over to Baltar, who looked more than a little uncomfortable, "You yourself said that we might have to box all of the Three's."

"For taking unilateral action without consulting the others." Cavil nodded, "Which is just what you have done now; we never agreed to send Hare down to Atlantis. She is too important to risk loosing."

"We will loose her if she dies." Six countered, "The Tau'ri have the knowledge and experience needed to save her. Or would you rather she died? It is no secret that you do not believe the prophecy's."

"Superstitious nonsense." Cavil shook his head, turning to Baltar for support, "Surly you don't believe this?"

"I believe." Baltar nodded slowly.

"There are two ways this can end." Six smiled, "Peacefully, or in a Civil War that will rip what remains of our people apart. You decide."

"You seem to be holding all the cards." Cavil conceded, "We can not afford another war, not right now. As it is, it will take us years to rebuild what we left behind, with only a fraction of the resources." He nodded his consent, "Go, but be warned that you can never return: you're as much a danger to our way of life as the Three's." He stepped aside, "I'd wish you luck, but I somehow don't think that would help."

"I make my own luck." Six climbed into the _Raptor_ and took the pilot seat, quickly running through the pre-flight checks and the bay decompressed.

"Do you trust him?" Baltar asked.

"About as far as I could throw this ship." Six snorted, "But I know how his mind works: he wants me out of the way, because with D'Anna boxed, there is no one else standing in his way to become the undisputed leader of the Cylon race. He wants Hare out of the way because she is a living, breathing symbol of everything he stands against. Normally he'd just kill us and be done with it, but with the Tau'ri watching, he can't risk it."

"You had this planned all along, didn't you?" It was more of a statement than a question.

"Most of it, yes." Six admitted, "The rest? Well let's just say that I believe in happy coincidences."

**

* * *

**

"Report." Adama walked into CIC with more than a little urgency, "What's going on with the President and her party?"

"Damned if I know." Tigh shrugged, "Cally reported something about two ship's hiding in orbit, so I ordered the CAP to have a look: they spotted two ships, one of them identical to the _Daedalus_, sitting in the planets magnetic field where we couldn't see them. I contacted Atlantis, and had a little argument with someone claiming to be a General."

"How many of our people are planet side?" The Admiral asked.

"The President and your son are still in Atlantis." His old friend looked at the chart, "Zarek came back up a few hours ago, and Chief Tyrol's team are on their way back now. We also have a small number of Atlantis personnel on board, including their CMO."

"Yes; I ran into Helo on the way up." Adama nodded, "He said something about moving some of the refuges out of Dogsville and down to an unused part of Atlantis."

"Like hell!" Tigh laughed, "I still don't trust them..."

A flash of light illuminated the entire CIC, and everyone looked round to see Apollo and an older man in a dark blue uniform standing in the middle of the room. The marines guarding the doors brought their weapons up, but the GAG motioned them to stop.

"That was, unusual." He blinked looking round.

"You get used to it." The older man nodded, "And I told you it wouldn't hurt a bit."

"Major?" Adama looked at his son.

"Sorry, sir." Apollo managed to pull himself together, "This is Major General Jack O'Neill of Earth. General; Rear-Admiral William Adama, commander of the Battlestar Galactica, and Colonel Saul Tigh."

"Hi." O'Neill smiled, "Dr Weir says I'm to apologise for shouting at you before; I seem keep forgetting that I'm supposed to be in charge of the entire Stargate Program these days."

"You work for Dr Weir?" Adama asked.

"Well, technically, she works for me." O'Neill mused, "But them you get into the whole '_Atlantis is under the jurisdiction of the International Oversight Advisory, not the SGC_' thing and it start to get complicated..."

"General?" Apollo half-glared at the other man.

"Oh, yeah; the bad news." O'Neill looked at Adam and Tigh and shrugged, "We've got a four Wraith Hive Ship's headed this way. Kind of puts a dampener on the whole peace treaty thing, doesn't it?"

**

* * *

**

"Atlantis can't withstand another Wraith attack." Weir sat back down behind her desk, the normally open door closed tightly, sealing them off from the rest of the control room, "We only have one ZPM, and it won't last long against a prolonged attack by even one Hive Ship."

"I will gladly lend the _Samantha Carter_ to the cities defence." Thor nodded as he tried to sit gracefully in a seat designed for a much larger being, "But as advanced as my people are, one ship will not be enough to stand up against a large number of Wraith vessels."

"And if the other Hives learn that Atlantis is still around, then they won't be long in coming." Weir looked at Roslin, "I'm sorry, but it looks like we might not be the safe haven you were looking for."

"My people will stand and fight alongside the Tau'ri." The Colonial President nodded, "But I regret to say that the _Galactica_ is in no fit state for a stand-up fight: she took a terrible pounding above New Caprica, and we simply don't have the necessary parts and equipment needed to repair her. Admiral Adama has said that she would need over a year in a fully stocked and manned shipyard. And with what the Cylons did to the Scorpian Fleet Shipyards, and with the Wraith now controlling the Twelve Colonies..." She trailed off.

"We wouldn't expect you to send her into the fight." Weir shook her head, "I recommend that you take what supplies you can, and head for a planet without a Stargate: the Wraith may not find you..."

"There is a third option." Thor interrupted, "The Wraith may only suspect that Atlantis survives: without solid proof, they may be unwilling to expend limited resources on what might be a futile search."

"So all we have to do is convince them that Atlantis was destroyed during the last attack." Weir nodded slowly, "How?"

"By going on the offensive and stopping them from reaching Lantea." The Asgardian looked at the two human in tern, "If we destroy the four Hive Ships and their support vessels entirely, we may be able to convince any of their allies that it was a hostile act by an opposing faction. In many respects, we will use the paranoia of their Civil War against them."

"It might work." Weir admitted, "But we only have three ships: the _Daedalus, Odyssey _and the _Samantha Carter_. Will that be enough?"

"We still have at lest one Earth-week before the Wraith are close enough to be a risk: we must use that time wisely." Thor stood and walked over the the computer screen on the far wall. He used a remote attached to his wrist to activate it and bring up schematics of the _Galactica_ and a Cylon Basestar. "While the _Galactica_ is not capable of joining the fight, the Cylon's have promised to hand over the _Pegasus_ to the Tau'ri. My people have already dispatched two _Daniel Jackson_ class science vessels to help upgrade the _Daedalus_ and _Odyssey_. We should be able to at least equip the _Pegasus_ with shields and more advanced sensors by the time we need to attack the Wraith. If the Colonials are willing to provide an experienced crew..."

"I think that can be arranged." Roslin nodded in agreement.

"That's still only four ships." Weir thought for a moment, "What if we ask the Cylon's for help?"

"**WHAT!**" The Colonial President jumped out of her chair, "**SURELY YOU CAN NOT BE SERIOUS?**"

"I am serious... and don't call me Shirley." Weir shook her self, "Sorry. Inappropriate humour; it's a reflex action from having spent too much time around General O'Neill. But the fact remains that the Cylons still have at least two doze Basestar's, and we need that extra fire-power if we're going to take on four Hive Ship's."

"You must understand," Roslin leaned forward across the desk, "Peace Treaty or no Peace Treaty, my people will find it hard to fight alongside the Cylons. After all that's happened, we will **NEVER** be able or willing to trust them."

"I'm not asking you to trust them, I'm asking you to trust me." Weir steepled her fingers, "As I said before; We must all hang together, or assuredly we shall all hang separately. The Cylons have just as much to loose to the Wraith as any of us. The question, Madam President, is this: will you stand with us?"

**To Be Continued...**

_I'm trying to find the best way to put this, but I had some really jack-ass reviews to the last chapter (another reviewer has been blocked), so I apologise if I'm a little distracted._

_As I've said before, I'm writing this because I'm enjoying it: reviews are nice, but I could easily learn to live without them if needs be. I don't want to have to block anonymous reviews because I don't bile that you should have to create an account just to tell someone you like their work. But I do reserve the right to delete those that I find personally offensive._

_Some people seem to be under the impression that if you've finished one segment of the story, then all the other plot-lines will be left dangling._

_I'm a fan of what is known as_ "Chekhov's Gun"_, a literary technique whereby an element is introduced early in the story, but whose significance does not become clear until later on. For example, a character may find a mysterious object that eventually becomes crucial to the plot, but at the time of finding the object does not seem to be important. In all cases, the introduced element is so conspicuous that it raises unanswered questions for the reader or audience. These questions are then answered as the story continues._

_I have placed several 'guns' in this story, maybe half of which have come to light so far, and not all of them fully. I'm not going to say what they are, as that would ruin the surprise. But it can be taken as read that I have a very good idea where I'm going with this, and that everything will be explain in due time, and not a moment before._

_Anyway, thanks for reading and I'll have the next chapter up as soon as it's finished. Those who want to read this as it is written should check out the Ex Isle forum (link in my profile) for regular updates and more direct feedback._


	16. My Own Personal Thermopylae

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 16: ****My Own Personal Thermopylae**

"The files you wanted." Dr Cottle stood holding a handful of thick card folders, "A copy of everything we have on Cylon physiology and Hera Agathon; from her mother's first examination when she came aboard to her inoculations on New Caprica."

"Thank you." Becket accepted the documents and started to shift through them, "Anything I should know about the pregnancy and birth?"

"Sharon almost miscarried at one point; a semi-detached placenta. That and we needed to put Hera in an incubator to help her breath." The Colonial doctor shrugged, "I guess that, for all the outward physical similarities, they aren't as human as they look."

"Interspecies breeding is are, but not unheard of." The Scotsman pointed out, "I wouldn't be here myself if not for the fact that humans could have children with non-ascended Ancients."

"So you're not totally human?" Cottle looked genuinely surprised.

"No; I have what we know as the ATA, or Ancient Technology Activation, gene." Becket explained, "You see, when the original inhabitants of Atlantis were forced to abandon the city in the face of a prolonged Wraith siege, they fled to Earth through the Stargate. Once there, they spent an unknown number of years living among the native human population before ascending. During this time some of them became involved with the natives and produced children who passed on a key strand of DNA. Those who posses the gene are able to activate certain pieces of advanced Ancient technology, such as the Puddle Jumpers."

"And all humans on Earth have this DNA?"

"Only a handful of people have it naturally, and the strength varies: I only have the most basic control over it. For someone like General O'Neill, who has a much stronger gene, it's almost instinctive."

"Wait a second: Cally said that the controls on your transport responded to her?"

"Aye; we found that the wee lass has the ATA gene when we did some routine blood work on her during her stay in Atlantis. It's about the same strength as mine, but I'd hazard a guess that her military training allows her to focus her mind more on things such as the controls for the Puddle Jumper."

"Are you trying to tell me that, at some point in our history, my people had contact with these 'Ancients' of yours?"

"All I'm saying is that she has the ATA gene: how it got there is a complete mystery. I can provide you with all the information you need to run the tests yourself, but it will probably take some time; time that we just don't have."

**

* * *

**

"We have a _Raptor_ launched from the Cylon Basestar requesting permission to land." Zelenka reported, "Scans show three life signs."

No one said anything, and most of the control room staff looked to Carter.

"What?" She asked.

"With General O'Neill and Colonel Caldwell off-world, you're the senior most military officer in Atlantis." McKay explained, "And under current operating procedure, we need your okay to do, well, pretty much anything."

"Okay; tell them they can land, and have someone meet them." Carter nodded, "I have a feeling Dr Weir is going to want to talk to them." She walked over to McKay and leaned in close, "So I can order you guys to do _anything _I want?"

* * *

"Just how big a threat are we talking about?" Adama asked when they were safe in the privacy of his office just off of the CIC.

"Big." O'Neill nodded solemnly, "In a stand-up fight, a Hive Ship is a match for the _Daedalus_. The Asgard have promised new upgrades," He shrugged, "but we have no idea if they'll be able to get them done in time. Now we have the ability to hide Atlantis, but not all these ships in orbit."

"Which leaves back where we started." Tigh complained, "We have food for maybe a week, if we ration it as closely as we can. Is there anywhere safe we can go?"

"Not that I know of." The General shook his head, "The Wraith are like a swarm of insects; they're everywhere in this galaxy." his radio bleeped, "O'Neill."

"_General._" Weir's voice was just loud enough for the Colonial officers to hear, "_Started a war yet?_"

"Not so far." O'Neill looked round, "Thor come up with any bright ideas?"

"_Yes, but you're not going to like it_." The Expedition leader sounded tense, "_President Roslin has agreed to offer all the help she can, but says that the_ Galactica _is_ _in no fir state to enter battle._"

"That true?" O'Neill looked at Adama, who nodded, "That's the consensus up here, to. What did the little guy suggest?"

"_Going out an meeting the Wraith head-on._" Weir let the words sink in before continuing, "_We take the_ Daedalus, _the_ Odyssey, _the_ Samantha Carter, _the_ Pegasus _and what ever we can talk the Cylon's into giving us and intercept the Hive Ship's a week out from Atlantis..._"

"...and hope that we have enough fire-power to stop them." O'Neill looked unsure as to whether the plan had merit, "And Roslin agreed to this?"

"_Somewhat reluctantly_." Weir admitted, "_But we all agree that it is our best chance to stop the Wraith from reaching Atlantis_."

"I've never been a big fan of suicide missions." The General sighed, "Okay, but I am still in command: if we can't come up with a plan of attack that I think has at least a snowball's chance in hell of succeeding, we better have a Plan B ready."

"_I'll get my people on it._" Weir agreed, "_Atlantis out._"

"Well then, gentlemen." O'Neill looked at the three Colonial officer, "Looks like we have a war to get ready for."

**

* * *

**

"What's going on?" Becket asked as he walked into the infirmary, "Somebody said I had to come down from the _Galactica_ immediately."

"Doctor," Six held up Hera, "your patient needs you."

"Right." the Scotsman nodded, slipping back into professional mind-set in an instant, "Let's get a scanner in here so we can have a look inside the wee thing and see if we can find out what's wrong with her." He handed the files Cottle had given him to the other doctors, "Here's what little the Colonials have on her; go through them and see if you can find anything we might need to know, then get it all put into the system." He glanced at Six, "We might need a database for future reference."

"What did he mean by that?" Baltar asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about right now." Six smiled sweetly, before turning back to Becket, "Do you know where I might find Dr Weir?"

"In her office would be my first guess." The doctor responded as he lay Hera on a bed, "She seemed a little busy, though."

"Well I'm afraid that I'm about to make her day a lot more interesting." The Cylon turned to Major Lorne, who was acting as their escort, "I need you to take us to Dr Weir."

"I'll take you as far as the control room." Lorne nodded, "But if she's busy."

* * *

"The test results you wanted." Layne Ishay, one of the _Galactica's_ medics, handed Cottle a clipboard, "I've run the tests twice to make sure: on the samples we have to hand, I've found seven examples of what the Tau'ri call this ATA gene."

"Is Cally one of them?" The CMO asked.

"Yes; but you should look at the next page." Ishay pointed to four highlighted names, "Given the information Dr Becket gave us, these four people have an amazingly strong form of the gene."

"Colonel Saul Tigh, Chief Galen Tyrol, Ensign Samuel Anders and Tory Foster?" Cottle looked at the names, "Who's Tory Foster?"

"She replaced Billy Keikeya as President Roslin's chief aid after his death." Ishay explained, "What are we going to tell them all?"

"For now, nothing." Cottle shook his head, "It won't make a damned bit of difference. Who were the other two?"

"Hera Agathon; we still have a few samples of her blood." Ishay took a deep breath, "And Captain Kara Thrace."

**

* * *

**

"Now I know how Leonidas and his 300 Spartans felt." O'Neill muttered as he looked at the pages and pages of data before him.

"Excuse me?" Adama asked.

"King Leonidas the First of Sparta." O'Neill explained, "2,500-years ago there was a battle on Earth: Persian Emperor Xerxes the Great led an army that some say numbered one million to invade the Greek City-States. Unable to convince the other kings to oppose Xerxes, Leonidas led an army of just over 5,000 volunteers to the pass of Thermopylae, which translates roughly as 'The Hot Gates'. Leonidas and his men held the pass, forcing the Persian army to fight on a thin strip of land between the mountains and the sea, where their greater numbers would be of no use. For three days they stood down an army that had swept aside all that had stood before it, before they were betrayed by a man named Ephialtes of Trachis told Xerxes of a pass through the mountains that would let them outflank the Greek's."

"Knowing that they could not win if surrounded, Leonidas sent away all but the remaining members of the 300-Spartan Warrior he had brought with him and 700 Thespians under general Demophilus. Those that left were given one last order; to remember that a few had given their last breath so that Greece would remain free, so that logic, justice and reason would not bow down before superstition and tyranny. Xerxes led the final attack, and all of the Spartans and most of the Thespians died. But in holding the pass for just a little longer, Leonidas made sure that the rest of the army would get away to warn the City States. Those three days gave Athens the invaluable time to prepare for a decisive naval battle that would come to determine the outcome of the war. A year later, at the Battle of Plataea, Sparta sent 45,000 men under the command of General Pausanias, the largest force they ever amassed, and the treat of Persian invasion was ended once and for all with the destruction of the army Xerxes had left when he returned home."

"When I was at the academy, the instructors use to use Battle of Thermopylae as an example of the advantages of training, equipment, and good use of terrain to maximize an army's potential." O'Neill took a step back, "They also asked us to put ourselves in Leonidas' position: would we be willing, would we be able, to stand our ground and fight to the death if that is what was needed of us."

"We must all face that question at some point in our lives." Adama nodded in agreement, "For me, it came during the Battle of New Caprica: we had to stay and keep the Cylons occupied while the civilian ships escaped, even if it meant we never left ourselves. But that was back when we had _our_ Battlestar _Pegasus_."

"Talking of which, have you decided who's going to command the _Pegasus_ during all this?" O'Neill asked.

"I'll be taking command myself." Adama replied with a straight face, "I've not told him yet, but I want Lee to take over military command of the fleet while I'm away. He's young, married, and has his entire life ahead of him. No, if this is going to be a Battle of Thermopylae as you say, then I want to be there myself."

**To Be Continued...**

_And to those of you who think they know Greek history from having seen 300: Miller admitted that he 'fudged' a few historic facts for the sake of the narrative._


	17. Maternal Instinct

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 17: ****Maternal Instinct**

Dr Weir felt dead on her feet: she hadn't had a good nights sleep since Sheppard's death, and the few cat-naps she'd managed to grab had been filled with the same recurring dream. It wasn't the dream itself that was getting on her nerves; it was that she always woke up before finding out who the two robed, hooded figures were. She had considered going to so Becket or Dr Heightmeyer after the peace talks had ended, but then the approaching Wraith fleet had been spotted, and they were back in another fight for survival.

Only this time, it wasn't just Atlantis that was at risk: the last remnants of two recently warring civilisations were looking to her for their salvation.

"Dr Weir." Major Lorne walked over, followed closely by Six and Baltar, "They insisted on seeing you, immediately."

"I have a very bad feeling I know what this is about." Weir complained to the universe in general.

"I am afraid that I was forced to move up my schedule by several days." Six nodded, "But, on the plus side, I was able to bring Hera Agathon and a _Raptor_ with me. You can keep the ship, but I request that you reunite Hera with her parents as soon as possible."

"How very magnanimous of you." President Roslin almost snarled from behind Weir.

"I save Hear, at great danger to my own continued existence because I felt that protecting her was more important than anything else." The Cylon responded, "There was much that I was hoping to accomplish before I left, but it was not God's will."

"Well, we have a problem." Weir frowned, "Four Wraith Hive Ship's are headed this way, and we are trying to put together a fleet to go out and stop them. We were hoping that your people would be willing to send some Basestar's to help."

"I can assure you, that if the Wraith are on their way here, then the Cylon Alliance will stand with the Tau'ri." Six looked pale, "The threat they pose to my kind is, unlike anything you could imagine."

"Some might say that it was justice." Roslin snapped.

"Justice?" The Cylon asked, "I've felt the pain of my kind when they are fed on by the Wraith; pray to your gods that you never experience it. We destroyed two Resurrection ships to stop them falling into their hands."

"Why?" Weir asked.

"Imagine you're being fed on by the Wraith." Six looked at the three humans she was standing with, "For your kind, you at lest know that death will be a release. But not for any Cylon on a Wraith-controlled Resurrection ship: they would suffer the unimaginable pain of having their very life-force drained from their bodies, knowing that they would soon re-awaken in a fresh, new body, and it would all start over again. Day after day, year after year, long after they have been driven insane." She looked Roslin in the eye, "You may think you know what hell is, but believe me, it is nothing compared to what would await my people if we do not stop the Wraith: we could end up spending the next ten thousand years as nothing more than infinitely reusable livestock."

"Well then," Weir swallowed, shaken by what she had just been told, "I will, as agreed, grant both you and Dr Baltar asylum in Atlantis. Anything else will have to be agreed by the International Oversight Advisory."

"That is all I ask." Six nodded.

**

* * *

**

Space distorted, ripped apart by energies almost beyond human comprehension, and three ships joined throes already in orbit above Lantea: two were painted in the bright blue and white of the Intersun Starline company, while the third, larger, ship wore the dull, battleship grey used by the Colonial Fleet. Unlike her sister ship, the Battlestar _Pegasus_ looked like it had just come out of the shipyards above Caprica the day she was commissioned. Her outer armour belt was intact and unblemished, her running lights ablaze as she settled into orbit near the Cylon Basestar.

"Sweet!" O'Neill grinned as he guided the Puddle Jumper towards the latest ship in Earth's fleet, thinking of how much fun it would be to go track down Ba'al after the Asgard had finished all of the promised upgrades and get in a little payback.

"Well, she looks intact." Apollo sat in the front passenger seat, amazed out how smooth the ride was, "The approach lights are lit up on the port landing-pod."

"Okay." O'Neill nodded, "Taking us in."

As the small transport approached the much larger warship, a shadow fell across the cockpit, and Apollo looked out to see a strange, inhuman ship pass overhead.

"What the Frack!" He gasped.

"That's just Thor." O'Neill grinned, amused at the other man's reaction, "He's got a very strange sense of humour, for an Asgard."

"How well do you know him?"

"Thor? As well as any human could: we've saved each other's asses more times than either of us care to admit." The General shrugged, "It's a big, nasty universe out there, and the Asgard are the best friends Earth has. I kind of get the impression that Thor would like to do more to help us, but his people have just fought a major war that wages for hundreds of years, and they're still rebuilding their society. Add to that, they're more than a little paranoid; they don't want to hand out anything that might be used against them."

"And yet you consider them friends?" The Colonial pilot asked.

"Hey, I trust Thor a hell of a lot more than I trust you people." O'Neill snapped as he brought the Jumper in for a slightly bumpy landing due to his laps in concentration, "I consider Thor a personal friend; he's already stuck his neck out by agreeing to help us fight the Wraith." the pod was lowered into the hanger deck, "Come on; I want to get a good look at my new ship."

* * *

"Hello, Elizabeth." The two words were spoken softly, but carried the weight of worlds.

"What?" Weir sat up in bed, looking around her dark quarters, "John?"

"Hi." Sheppard was sitting in the chair by the door, "It's good to see you again."

"But you...you..." Weir forced herself to swallow, "You died. I saw you die!"

"Yeah; I did." Sheppard nodded, "That's probably why you're dreaming of me."

"This is a dream?"

"I'm afraid so."

"It's very lucid."

"You're a smart person: even your subconscious knows that I'm dead, no matter how much you'd like to deny it."

"I really need to go see Dr Heightmeyer..."

"Say '_Hi_' for me, will you?"

"Wouldn't I be saying '_Hi_' from my subconscious?"

"True; but it would be interesting to see what she reads into it."

"I miss you."

"I know, but then I'm you."

"Why am I having this dream, if I'm just going to be talking to myself?"

"You need to say goodbye."

"I'm not sure I want to. There's so much I never said."

"Neither did I."

"I don't want to say goodbye: if I do, I might not dream about you again."

"True; but you need to sleep." Sheppard stood and slowly walked towards the bed, "There's a storm coming, Elizabeth, and you need to be ready for it." He sat on the edge of the bed, "They all need you to be strong."

"I'm tired of being strong." Weir yawned, laying back down, "I wish you were still here."

"Me to." Sheppard nodded as Weir closed her eyes, "I'm sorry I never told you," he leaned down and kissed her on the forehead, "how much you mean to me."

Weir didn't respond: he breathing had already returned to it's previous slow, steady rate, and she started to snore softly.

"It's time to go." A voice called from the doorway.

"I know." Sheppard squeezed Weir's hand one last time, then stood, "Sleep easy , Elizabeth; pleasant dreams."

**

* * *

**

"Here we are." Becket looked at Hera's ultrasound, "She has a small bowel , most likely intussusception." He looked at his assistant, "I think we need to prep her for sugary: Key-hole is best: we don't want to cause her any more distress than we have to."

The main door opened, and Becket looked round to see Major Lorne standing there with a man and a woman in Colonial Military uniform. The instant they saw Hera they ran over to her bed and looked down at the small child, the man putting an arm around his companion as she started to cry.

"I take it you're the parents?" He asked rhetorical.

"Captain Karl Agathon." Helo introduced himself, "This is my wife Sharon."

"Dr Carson Becket." The Scotsman nodded, "You're daughter has what we call an intussusception: part of her intestine has slipped back inside another, causing an obstruction. It's nothing to worry about, but it will require a minor surgical procedure to correct."

"Sugary?" Athena looked worried, "How minor are we talking about here?"

"I'm planning to cut a small hole and insert a miniature camera, smaller than a finger." Becket explained, "Then I can use a pair of forceps to pull the two sections of her intestine apart, clearing the obstruction. It's a technique with a very high susses rate, with minimal risk and limited scaring. In fact, with any luck there won't even be a scare."

"Thank the Gods!" Halo sighed with relief, kissing his wife on the forehead.

"So Say We All." A voice came from the doorway, and everyone turned round to see President Roslin standing there.

"What the **frack** are _you_ doing here?" Athena hissed, instructively getting between the Colonial leader and her daughter.

"I wanted to make sure that Hera was going to be okay." Roslin explained, "I am many things, but I am not a monster..."

"You will stay away from my daughter!" Athena almost went for the other woman, but Helo held her back.

"I think it would be best if you left." Becket suggested.

"Very well." Roslin nodded, "I'll come back later."

"Like hell!" if looks could kill, then the Colonial President would have been a smoking stain on the floor from the hate in Athena's eyes.

"I have to respect the wishes of the parents in this matter." Becket drew himself up to his full hight, amazed that he had the inner strength needed to stand down Roslin, "If they don't want you anywhere near their daughter, then I'm going to have to ask you to stay away from the Infirmary while she is here for anything less than an acute medical emergency. I've read the files Dr Cottle gave me, so I know what you tried to do to her."

Roslin looked like she was about to say something for a moment, but just nodded and walked off. Becket felt like his legs were about to give way, and had to grasp the examination table for balance.

"Thank you." Athena looked at him, the anger replaced by relief.

"No problem." The Doctor nodded, "When all is said and done, I am the Chief of Medicine on Atlantis: I do have the right to bare people from the Infirmary, as long as they aren't in need of medical attention."

"She'll not let it go." Helo looked at the door, worried that Roslin would come back, "Not after everything that's already happened."

"Aye, well, she's not that popular around here." Becket managed to regain his composure, "I know that there are a lot of people back on Earth who'd like to trade for some of your technology, but what happened to Rodney goes against every rule we have for the treatment of prisoners."

* * *

The _Pegasus_ seemed to be deserted: the small inspection team found no sign of habitation as Apollo led the way from the hanger deck (which was running on automatic) up to the CIC. O'Neill looked around the room with a critical eye, already deciding what changes he intended to make.

"Okay, what are we looking at here?" He asked.

"Well, it seems to be intact and unchanged." Apollo looked round, "I've seen photos of this class from back when they were built. The _Galactica's_ had some upgrades since then, but not a lot: due to the age of this design, it was impossible to add some recent developments, like an auto-land system for the _Vipers_."

"He's not kidding." McKay's legs could be seen poking out from one of the control consoles, "This thing's almost a dinosaur." He hand came out and reach around until it found his tablet PC, "I've seen MP3 players with more processing power than this thing. And none of it's networked."

"That was for security." Apollo explained, "With the Cylon able to hack anything but the most basic computer system, we had to decentralise everything so that if they did get in, they couldn't take over the entire ship."

"You guys ever hear of _McAfee_ or _Norton_?" O'Neill asked, then shook his head, "Dumb question; forget I even asked." he pulled out his radio, "Thor, got your ears on there, good buddy?"

"_I hear you, General O'Neill_." The Asgardian commander reported from his own ship.

"The ship seems secure and McKay's already started work on the upgrades; you can beam the rest of the team up as soon as possible." O'Neill smiled as the bright light of an Asgard transporter filled the room, depositing a larger number of Atlantis and SGC personnel.

"Nice." Carter looked round, "Okay, I want three teams: Rodney, take as many people as you think you need and find a way to link the ships systems to our network."

"You, you and you." McKay pointed at three people seemingly at random, "Over here, now."

"Second team, Dr Zelenka." Carter turned to face the other physicist, "Weapons, defences and sensors; I want a complete run down of what we've got and how they work. Everyone else, if you'd like to follow me, we're going to find out how this ship's FTL-drive works."

"Today, people, today!" O'Neill looked at the still slightly confused scientists, "Unless you want to go hand-to-hand against the Wraith?"

**To Be Continued...**

_Don't ask about the dream-sequence: there is only one other person who knows just where I'm going with this story, and I have no intention on letting anyone else in on it all._


	18. Tactics of War

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 18: ****Tactics of War**

"Okay, I think you have a lot of explaining to do." Baltar stood in the middle of the quarters that had been set aside for Six and him to use, "What exactly is going on?"

"It's very hard to explain." His Cylon lover sat in one of the two comfortable chairs, and motioned towards the other, "You should sit." She waited until her companion had done as instructed, before continuing, "Gaius, do you remember, shortly before we came to Atlantis, you asked if you had ever told me you loved me?"

"Yes." Baltar nodded, "You said no, and something about having all the proof you needed. I was going to ask you what you meant, but then things got a little hectic..."

"I'm pregnant." Six managed to maintain her composure as she watched the former Colonial President closely, "I suspected, and when we first arrived here for the peace talks I asked Dr Becket to confirm it. As far as he can tell, I am approximately nine to ten weeks pregnant."

"Pregnant?" Baltar blinked, "How?"

"I'm sure that a man of your education and intellect understands the biological side of things." Six could help but smile slightly, "I will not pretend to understand the reasons why my people can not reproduce biologically without the 'love' aspect, but it is what it is."

"Pregnant?" Baltar blinked again, "How?"

**

* * *

**

The hyperspace window opened directly above the _Samantha Carter_ and two _Daniel Jackson_ class science vessels came spilling out, coming to a dead stop in perfect formation behind the much bigger _O'Neill_ class Battlecruiser. There was a short pause as Thor received the latest reports from his home world, then passed on his own orders.

One of the two support ships moved over alongside the _Pegasus_ and started to scan every millimetre of it, building up a complete 3D computer model of the Battlestar, inside and out. The other began to descend towards Atlantis.

**

* * *

**

"We have an Asgard ship requesting permission to land." Major Lorne reported, "It's the science vessel... oh no..."

"What is it?" Colonel Caldwell looked round.

"It's the science vessel _Rodney McKay_." Lorne groaned, "There's going to be _no_ living with him after this."

There was a moment of silence as the news sank in; several members of the expedition shuddered viably.

"Very well." Caldwell nodded, swallowing hard, "Permission granted. Did they say what they wanted?"

"It appears that Commander Thor has asked them to see if they can upgrade the cities defences and power distribution systems." Lorne explained, "They also said something about Tollan Ion Cannons?"

"I've heard of those." Caldwell smirked, "General O'Neill gets a odd look in his eye every time someone mentions them." He looked round, "And the first person to mention the name of that ship to Dr McKay gets a month in the brig."

"We don't have a brig." Someone called out from the other side of the room.

"then I'll build one." The _Daedalus'_ CO responded.

* * *

"We're ready to begin the first upgrades." McKay reported, "The Asgard found a few defects in the outer armour belt, and despite the fact that they're going to install shield generators, they felt it would be best to repair them while they had the chance."

"Sounds, good, but isn't it going to take time to strip it all off, fabricate new parts and bolt them back on?" O'Neill asked, "Time that could be better spent elsewhere?"

"Ah, now this is the really cool part." McKay looked like a kid looking at all the gifts under the tree Christmas morning, "Asgard weapons and transporters work on the same principle: they break everything down to the component atoms. The only difference is that the transporters puts it all back together again. So, extrapolating from this, Sam and I helped them develop a way to use a transporter to remove, repair and replace a damaged component in one go."

"Okay, cool." O'Neill just nodded, letting the technobabble wash over him, "Let's do that."

"You have no idea what he just said, do you?" Zelenka asked from his place at fire-control.

"Not a word." The General admitted, "But this is the first time I've seen him smile since I arrived from Earth. Trust me; I've been through what he experience myself more than once: anything that helps him cope is fine by me." He turned to face the Czech scientist, "So, what kind of honking huge space-guns does this thing have?"

"The main armament seems to be multiple banks of kinetic-energy weapons." Zelenka reported, "Bigger but slower firing then the rail guns on the _Daedalus_ or _Odyssey_. But they can fire solid or explosive rounds, and with a little work, we might be able to improve their rate of fire."

"Okay, that sounds cool." O'Neill leaned over the console, "What about point-defences?"

"Larger number of smaller, more rapid fire Gauss-cannons." Zelenka handed over a tablet PC, "We should be able to replace them with the same guns that we used against the Wraith when they last attacked Atlantis."

"Good idea, but we don't have nearly enough to make a difference." O'Neill shook his head, "Carry on; I'm going to find out what Carter's up to."

**

* * *

**

"Okay people, let's keep nice and loose out there." Apollo looked out of cockpit at other _Vipers_, a collection of the older Mk. II's and the much newer Mk. VII's, "Let's shows them how we do thing."

The training exercise had been his idea: if they were going into battle alongside the Tau'ri, then each side needed to know just what the other's ship's could do. While all of the pilots had watched the gun-camera footage of the battle between the _Daedalus_ and the Wraith Cruiser that had first alerted them to the threats of the wider universe, there was no substitute for the real thing. As such, he'd contacted Atlantis and enquired into the staging of a few basic war-games to get the feel of how the Earth-pilots would react in the middle of a dogfight. O'Neill had agreed, and now the bulk of the _Galactica's_ air-group was facing off against the 32 F-302's that the _Daedalus_ and the _Odyssey_ could carry into battle.

The wedge shaped craft looked a lot like the old-style Cylon raiders that his father and Colonel Tigh had faced off against in the first Human/Cylon war. But there the similarity ended: the F-302 was the most advanced aircraft ever developed by Earth, the first capable of space combat. While it's propulsions systems looked antiquated compared to the _Viper's_ on paper, they had been seen to pull high-velocity turns that should have killed or incapacitated the pilot. All the fighters taking part had been fitted with spotting lasers that would indicate a hit on an opposing or friendly fighter, allowing them to add the real-life concern of a friendly-fire incident into the mix.

Apollo was snapped back to reality when his threat-detector started to go off, indicating that he had been targeted. He looked round, his keen eyes picking up the faint glimmer of light reflected off of the wings of a 302 moment's before it's pilot fired a pair of computer-simulated missiles at him.

"**TARGETS; TEN O'CLOCK HIGH!**" He called out a warning over the wireless as he put his _Viper_ through a series of sharp turns and dives intended to shake off the two virtual missiles. His scanner confirmed that one had been thrown off the scent, while the other was ridding his tail for all that it was worth.

Cutting his forward acceleration to zero, he span his nimble fighter around until it was pointed back the way he'd came and opened up with both of his wing-mounted cannons. The dummy rounds gave the look and feel of live-ammo, but without the potentiality deadly consequences. His walked the weapons fire across the missiles track, the computers running the war-games confirming that it had been destroyed.

But then the 302 was on him, its twin cannons firing streams of simulated death as it came in off it's port wing. Using his own crafts superior manoeuvrability, Apollo was able to dodge the first attack, and sent a bursts of weapons fire back the other way. The other fighter was just a blur as it passed over head, its pilot already fighting the controls to bring it back round again as fast as they could.

* * *

Six made her way to the control room, ignoring the Special Forces guard assigned as her minder. She wanted to learn more about the city, about those that had built it and what had happened to them. Her faith in the Cylon God was as strong as ever, but if even one part of the Sacred Scrolls had been proven correct, then there could be more to be uncovered.

She was unsurprised to see a Brother Cavil in Weir's office, talking with the human diplomat: she could guess his reaction to the news that the Wraith were on their way to the city. He was strange enough, despite his normal cover-story, an atheist, something that Six had never failed to find amusing.

"Greetings." A small voice came from behind her, and Six turned to find herself looking down at a short, grey skinned alien with large, black eyes, "I am Heimdall of the Asgard; I was hoping that you could answer a few questions for me about your Resurrection technology."

It took Six a moment to process what was happening, but the fact that there were several other aliens spaced out around the room, seemingly working alongside the humans, she decided that she was not hallucinating and it would be best to play along.

"I'm afraid that I don't know much about the technical side." She smiled as sweetly as she could, "But I will try to answer as many questions as I can."

**

* * *

**

Apollo ducked and dived around the ships in the civilian fleet, playing a complex, 3D game of tag with his opponent in the Earth fighter: the rest of the war-game was forgotten as it developed into a personal duel between the two pilots. The _Viper_ had a distinct speed advantage, and it's ability to spin round and fire backwards was more than enough to dissuade any tailgating, but the bigger 302 had a much smaller turning circle and could change direction in two thirds of the time it took its Colonial counterpart.

Thus the contest descended into an unending series of move and counter move: the 302 would get on Apollo's tale, and he would promptly spin round and n fire, forcing the larger fighter to brake off its pursuit. But the moment Apollo used his superior speed to get in behind the 302, it would bank sharply, turning inside the _Viper_ and the dance would start all over again.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the war-game ended with no clear winner; both fighters had taken damage, but not enough to say for certain just who would have come out on top. Apollo brought his _Viper_ up alongside the 302 and looked across at it's pilot; it was impossible to make out just who was at the controls of the other craft, but they gave him a crisp salute that he instinctively returned before pulling away and heading back towards the _Daedalus_.

**

* * *

**

"Making friends?" Cavil asked as he walked over to where Six and Heimdall were talking.

"You could say that." The taller Cylon responded with a sly smile, "It appears that the Asgard are interested in acquiring a Resurrection ship, and I think you'll find their offer very interesting..."

"Indeed." Heimdall nodded, "I have spoken to Supreme Commander Thor, and he agrees that in return for one of your Resurrection ships, the Asgard High Council would be willing to offer any and all assistance you need locating and settling a new Homeworld."

"So you see," Six looked at her former college with more than a slight air of smugness, "I still have my uses after all."

**To Be Continued...**


	19. The Needs Of The Many

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 19: The Needs ****Of The Many**

"Ten ships?" O'Neill stood in Weir's office, still dressed in his flight suit, "They're going to send just ten ships?"

"Technically, they're sending eleven, but only eight will be taking part in the battle." Weir explained, "Two of the Basestar's will be left behind at the staging area to guard a Resurrection ship."

"Well, okay then." The General started to pace back and forth, "We out number them, but the only ship we have that stands a chance going one-on-on against the Hive-Ships is Thor's, and that's assuming that none of them have shields."

"I agree." Caldwell nodded from his seat on the sofa set against one wall, "Have you decided which ship you'll be commanding from?"

"The _Odyssey_; her crew are still a little green, and I don't want to be standing on your toes." O'Neill stopped pacing and looked out of the window at Stargate operations, "Whatever happens, we're going to take losses." He turned to face the other two, "But not facing them will just mean more death and destruction."

"That's the price we pay to sit in the big chair." Weir shrugged, "Do you have anything approaching a plan?"

"Adama and I decided that we need to split the targets between the ships: the _Samantha Carter, Daedalus_ and _Odyssey_ will target the Hive ship's directly. The _Pegasus_ and the Basestar's will engage the cruisers while our combined fighter force takes on the Darts and any targets of opportunity." O'Neill sat down, "It's a little ruff, but we have a few days to work on it."

"It's a hail-Mary play, but it may be the best chance we have." Caldwell stood and walked over to the desk, "Hermiod and some of the newly arrived Asgard engineers are updating the transporters on both the _Daedalus_ and _Odyssey_ in a bid to try and circumvent their jamming system."

"Don't tell the Colonials or Cylons about that." O'Neill insisted, "I don't want them to know about any weaknesses if it can be avoided." He looked at Weir, "What of your two 'guests'?"

"Well, I have a team going over the _Raptor_ they gave us, but until McKay, Zelenka or Colonel Carter come back down, there's very little we can do." Weir picked up a file and opened it, "Six, and we're going to have to get her to pick a more-human name at some point, was last seen trying to negotiate some kind of deal between her former colleges and the Asgard. Dr Baltar has offered to help out with the _Pegasus_, but we'd need to provide a bodyguard, as he is less that popular with the Colonials."

"Do you think we can trust him that much?" O'Neill asked sceptically.

"I think he knows that we're the only chance he has." Weir smiled slyly, "Never underestimate a man's sense of self-preservation."

"Then I'll send a couple of MPs up with him." The General nodded, "I still don't trust these Colonial enough to give them free run of my new ship without someone who knows what they're talking about keeping an eye on them.

**

* * *

**

"Well?" Adama sat down behind his desk.

"Well what?" Roslin asked, "We are, supposedly, at peace with the Cylons for the first time in almost fifty years. We've found the Thirteenth Tribe, secured their help, and they've promised to try and locate us a safe planet."

"But not Earth." The Admiral sighed, "I was finally starting to believe that we might get there."

"True; I felt the same, but if what they have said is true, then Earth is not ready."

"They seem an odd mix; they have access to some truly miraculous technology, yet if you look at the ship's they've built themselves..."

"...are like something out of the early Colonial Wars, before the Cylons were created to do our fighting for us. I have to admit that I find the irony amusing: we have enjoyed space travel for almost a hundred years, but we're like children playing with toys compared to the power that Atlantis and the Asgard represents."

"I need not remind you of all people about the risk of the Cylon's gaining the upper hand, diplomatically speaking."

"My father used to say that diplomacy is the art of saying 'Nice doggie' until you can find a rock. But then he was a bit of a sync."

"I agree, and I have to admit that I am not a natural diplomat: in teaching, it is often necessary to take control of the dialogue, rather than exchange views."

"Well I'm afraid that Colonial Fleet did not see fit to assign either the _Galactica_ or the _Pegasus_ an ambassador."

"So we must make do with the best we have to hand."

"Mr Zarek?"

"He is Vice-President, which gives him all the authority he would need, and he has a definite knack for getting people to see his side."

"Only this time, it might be best if he didn't put a gun to someone's head."

"I'll remind him of that. But he is still the closest thing we have to an Ambassador: articulate, educated, charismatic and in his own way devoted to the people of the fleet."

* * *

"Excuse me, General O'Neill Sir." A tall man in a US Navy uniform was waiting outside Weir's office with a thick off-white folder in his hand, "You said you wanted to see the first draft of our report as soon as it was completed."

"Ah, yes." O'Neill walked over and took the file, "This is Commander Liam Henderson, the head of the Stargate Commands JAG detail; I asked him to come along after hearing about what happened to McKay. Commander, this is Dr Elizabeth Weir, head of the Atlantis expedition."

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Doctor." Henderson nodded with a faint smile, "you're reputation proceeds you."

"You wouldn't be related to a certain Jonathan Henderson of the State Department, by any chance?" Weir asked.

"My uncle, yes." The Navy officer winked, "The thing's he's said about you..."

"All untrue, I assure you." Weir couldn't help but smile, "So, how does a Navy JAG officer get assigned to an Air Force project like the SGC?"

"By virtue of being one of only a handful of people with the ATA gene NOT assigned to Atlantis." O'Neill leaned back against a control console, "And before you get any ideas, if you want a JAG representative, we'll find someone else." He opened the folder and flicked through the first few pages, "What did you find?"

"Having spoken to Doctors Becket and Heightmeyer, and going over the minutes of the meets on the _Galactica_ and here in Atlantis, I can confirm that Dr McKay was the subject of physical and psychophysical abuse and mistreatment that breaches all law and rules Earth has over the treatment of Prisoners of War." Henderson took a deep breath, "I need to talk to Dr McKay himself to confirm a few points, but we would have a very watertight case to bring charges against President Roslin, if not for her diplomatic status, and Captain Thrace, if she was still alive. I can't say anything about further charges until I get a chance to talk to the Colonials and see just who was involved in the decision making process."

"I need you told hold off on that until after we deal with the Wraith." O'Neill said reluctantly, "I need everyone to keep their mind on that for now. After, I'll see what I can do."

**

* * *

**

The _Galactica's_ CIC was it's normal hive of activity, despite it being late in the ship's 'night'. Tigh stood near the main DRADIS console, a steaming mug of black coffee in his hand. He wasn't sure just how the Earth-grown blend compared to what he was used to, but at least it was fresh and not freeze-dried.

"Message from Atlantis." Gaeta handed over a print-off, "The Cylon's have requested permission to jump the rest of their fleet in. General O'Neill is willing to grant the request, but wants our okay."

"Gods damned toasters." The Colonel snorted, "Tell Atlantis that as long as they can keep to their side of the planet, we have no problem. But how in Zeus' name we're going to work along side them..." He shook his head, "Anything else?"

"No; it's a quiet night." Gaeta looked at his clipboard, "Our supply ship's have finished their survey of the nearby asteroid belt; they say that there are sufficient supplies of tylium and other ores we need. They've requested permission to head out there and start mining."

"Well that's some good news for a change." Tigh voice dripped sarcasm, "Food, fuel, and protection from the Cylons; all the comforts of home."

"Indeed, sir." The Lieutenant nodded his agreement, "I can't help bet feel like the other shoes about to drop."

"If and when it does, I want to be ready." Tigh rubbed his forehead, "Tell the mining ship's to start collecting the tylium, and have Apollo assign some _Vipers_ and a couple of _Raptors_ to keep an eye on them."

**

* * *

**

Anders made his way through Dogsville, looking for the Oracle Helo had told him about. The shanty town was a warren, and he started to lose his sense of direction. After what felt like an hour, he finally found the small tent that had been described to him.

"Come in." A voice called before he could knock.

Anders slipped inside the dark confines, the scent of incense heavy in the air, the smoke irritating his eyes.

"You come seeking the one you lost." Brenn sat on the other side of a ow table, shuffling what looked like a pack of cards, "The woman you love, one of the prophesied Five." She started to turn over the cards one-by-one, "The Warrior, the General, the Artificer, the Athlete and the Scribe."

"What are you talking about?" Anders sat down, confused by everything.

"You have been having bad dreams; you see two hooded people standing in a room that you've never seen, but you know, none the less." The Oracle continued, "The Path you walk is a hard one, but you must see it through to the end. The Lords of Kobol do not reveal the true extent of their plans easily or all at once. We must have faith that things will work out as intended."

"I do not understand." Anders pleaded.

"The first step on the path to true enlightenment is admitting that you know nothing." Brenn looked him in the eye, "Kara followed her destiny, as we all must; it has been the way of the universe since before even the Gods were young. All that is required of us is that we have faith."

**

* * *

**

"Okay, you can close up now." Becket stepped back from the operating table and took a deep breath; the operation had taken longer that anticipated, but there had been no unforeseen complications. With proper care and time, Hera would recover fully.

Pealing off his cloves, he walked through the air-lock like divider between the main operation room at the rest of the infirmary. His young patient's parents were standing by his desk, worried looks on their faces.

"The operation was a complete success." Becket smiled, "Took a little longer than we thought it would, but with these things it's best to go slow then hurry and risk doing more damage."

"She's okay?" Athena asked, "When can we see her?"

"One of the other doctors is just sewing up the two incisions we had to make, but that shouldn't take more than a few minutes. She should be back in the ward within half an hour, but she's still going to be under the anaesthetic we gave her, so she'll be asleep."

"Would it be okay if we stay?" Helo asked, resting a hand on his wife's shoulder protectively.

"I don't see why not." The Doctor smiled, "She'll need to stay for a few days so we can make sure everything is working now, but I have no reason to doubt that she'll bounce back; children are amazingly resilient, and heal much quicker than adults." He looked at them both, "I'd also like to run a few more tests, if that's okay with the both of you: we have no baseline data for either Cylons or Human/Cylon hybrids, and it looks like we're going to be seeing quit a bit of each other in the near future."

"Anything, anything you want." Athena smiled, "Just as long as our daughters okay."

**To Be Continued...**


	20. Blood Legacy

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 20: ****Blood Legacy**

Ronon stood at the top of the stairs, watching the work detail from the _Galactica_ as they struggled to turn what had apparently been some kind of machine-shop into a living space. The building selected to hold the refuges was located halfway between the landing pad used by the _Daedalus_ and the main tower. It had been chosen because it was easily isolated from the rest of the city, as the expeditions scientists had been able to deactivate the transporters that connected it to other buildings, leaving just the internal, floor to floor system running. The basic necessities of heating, lighting an sanitation were already present, so all they needed to do was clear out the unwanted equipment and bring in the beds and partition walls.

Several of the workers glanced up at them, but he ignored them, still enraged at the way McKay had been treated while on-board the _Galactica._ He didn't notice at first the way that some of them were congregating in doorways and putting large boxes down in the middle of the passageway that passed outside the former machine-shop. But instincts honed to the point or near precognitive alerted him to danger and he was already reaching for his gun when the first grenade went off, filling the air with smoke and flame.

Diving for what little cover could be found on the exposed landing, Ronon drew his gun, scanning the crowed below for any sigh of hostility as they too ran for cover. Several members drew concealed weapons from the equipment boxes, gunfire hitting the wall just inches from Ronon's head. He returned fire as best he could, but the sight of another grenade flying through the air towards him forced him to break cover and dive into the nearest transporter, his hand hitting the destination screen at random.

**

* * *

**

A series of flashes filled the space above Lantea as what remained of the once proud Cylon fleet jumped in. many of the Basestar's showed signs of damaged from their desperate battle against the Wraith, but they took up position around the remaining Resurrection ships. A small cloud of regular and heavy Raiders took off and started flying their equivalent of a CAP, all under the watchful eyes of the _Daedalus_ and _Odyssey_, the two Earth-ship's keep station between the Cylon and Colonial fleets.

One of the Resurrection ships broke away from the main fleet and started to move towards the Asgard science vessel still in orbit next to the _Pegasus_. It came to a dead stop in a slightly higher orbit than the Battlestar, and a pair of Heavy Raiders took off and headed back to their main fleet. While not visible to the naked eye or most sensors, the Asgard ship scanned every atom of the far larger Cylon ship, mapping out off of its system in a massive 3D computer simulation.

Far below, the _Rodney McKay_ lifted from its landing pad in Atlantis, having unloaded all of it's supplies. It passed effortlessly out of the atmosphere, it's engines barely ticking over, and glided into position alongside the Resurrection ship. More powerfully scanners started to sweep the ship from bow to stern, collecting information on metallurgy, biochemistry and a dozen other factors.

**

* * *

**

"Okay, this is what we call a control-chair." Jackson let the way into the Chair room deep below the central tower, "With it, people with the ATA gene can operate many systems, including a number of the cities offensive and defensive weapons."

"Weapons?" Apollo asked apprehensively.

"They've been deactivated." O'Neill smiled, "We don't want anyone blowing the Cylon fleet out of orbit by accident..."

"Anyway," Jackson gave his friend and former team-mate a tired look, "it can also be used to access the cities sensors and holographic systems. That's what we'd like to try."

"This is entirely up to you." Apollo turned to face a confused looking Cally, "No one will think any the less of you if you don't want to try it."

"I'll show you how it works." O'Neill climbed into the seat and it automatically reclined, the raised dais it was on lighting up. The air shimmered as a holographic representation of Lantea's northern sky appeared as if by magic. Each ship, shuttle and fighter was clearly marked, with reams of data. The image shifted, expanding out until it encompassed the entire Pegasus galaxy. "We're here." The General pointed to a star circled in blue, "The world where Colonel Sheppard's team found you is her." a second star, slightly further out towards the galactic rim started to pulse.

"Can you show us Earth?" Cally asked, mesmerised by the display.

"Should be able to call up an historic record..." O'Neill closed his eyes in concentration, and the hologram blurred for a moment, before a blue/green world with white clouds took shape, "There we go: this is Earth as it was when Atlantis left ten thousand years ago. I doubt much has changed." the globe turned inside out, encompassing the dais, "Danny and I come from there," He pointed at North America, "a country called the United States of America. Dr McKay comes from Canada, which is directly to the north."

"What about Dr Becket?" Apollo asked, "His accent's a lot like Aerelon."

"Scotland." The area showing Northern Europe expanded to show just the British Isles, "The northern part of the bigger of the two islands. My ancestors came from the smaller one, what's now known as the Republic of Island. The northern part, known as Ulster, Scotland, Whales and England make up what's known as the United Kingdom. They sound a lot like Dr Baltar."

"How many people live on Earth?" Cally slowly turned round, trying to take it all in.

"Approximately 6.6 Billion people, give or take a few hundred million." O'Neill shrugged.

"Six Billion people!" Apollo exclaimed, "On one planet?"

"Yeah, we're starting to get a little worried about that too." Jackson admitted, "One very good reason for things like the Atlantis Expedition: we need space to grow."

"Now you know why I insisted that we kept the _Pegasus_." O'Neill explained as the hologram faded, the control chair returning to it's upright position. He looked at Cally with a sly smile, "Want to give it ago?"

"Okay." She nodded eagerly, "What do I have to do?"

"Just sit down and relax." The General helped her into the seat, "Everything else should be instinctive."

"I'll give it my best shot." Cally sat in the chair and it tilted backwards, the dais lighting back up. It pulsed repeatable for a moment, then the entire room went dark.

"That can't be good..." O'Neill sighed, "Have you any idea how pissed Weir is going to be if we broke something?"

"Very." His team-mate managed to activate his radio, "Control, this is Dr Jackson; we seem to have lost power down here."

"_We're getting reports of power shortages across the city_." Major Lorne reported, "_Everything seems to be shutting down. Oh my god; we're loosing power here to. I'll have to get back to you._"

The room was silent for a minute, before O'Neill summed up everyone's thoughts with just two words.

"Oh Crap..."

**

* * *

**

"Talk to me." Weir stood in the middle of the control room as the on duty staff rushed about around her, "Somebody? Anybody?"

"We're registering power failures across the entire network." Lorne explained, "The city seems to be going into lock-down, but we can't tell why."

"Can we contact the Pegasus, get Dr McKay back down?" Weir asked.

"That's a negative: all long range communications are down." The Major shook his head, "Internal communications are temperamental at best: the alloy that makes up most of the cities structure blocks direct radio communications. Without power to the relay stations we set up to act as backup for the intercom, they're running on battery backup, and that won't last forever."

"We need to get word to the ship's in orbit." Weir looked worried, "If this is more than an unfortunate coincidence, we might need their help."

"We have power to the Jumper-bay doors, for now." Lorne's hands darted about the controls, "The Jumper's themselves run on internal power cells, and shouldn't be effected."

"Send a jumper up to the _Daedalus_ and have them inform Colonel Caldwell what's going on." Weir ordered, "Everyone else, try and find out what's happening to my city."

* * *

"I didn't do it on purpose." Cally sounded worried that she was going to get the blame, "I didn't do anything but sit in the chair."

"Don't worry; this sort of thing happens a lot." O'Neill pulled a small flash light from a pouch on his belt and flicked it on, "The Ancients built all kinds of booby-traps and fail safes into their technology: you probably just tripped a circuit breaker..." He was cut off mid-sentence when a bright light enveloped them, and they found themselves transported to the still lit holographic teaching room not far from the operations centre. "Well that was a little unexpected."

"Where are we?" Apollo asked, wishing that he had a better understanding of Ancient technology.

"This room contains a direct link to the main database." Jackson explained, "You use the pedestal over there to control an interactive hologram that can answer almost any question."

"I've read Weir's report on this thing." O'Neill nodded, "It's got some kind of password protection: you ask it anything interesting and it just comes up with 'access denied'."

"But Cally's not tried it." Jackson pointed out, "If the control chair reacted to her presence, then maybe this will to?"

"And maybe it'll blow the city up." O'Neill shrugged, "But it's not like we've got a better plan." He looked at the Colonial NCO, "Want to give it a shot?"

"Is that such a good idea?" Apollo looked sceptical, "You just said that it could blow the city up!"

"Well, the way I see it, if that was going to happen, we wouldn't have been brought here in the first place." The General shrugged again, "If it is some kind of defence mechanism, it could have transported us into a holding cell in the brig."

The three men turned to face Cally, who backed herself up against the wall defencelessly.

"I'm not sure I should do this." She shook her head, "Why if something does go wrong?"

"I promise not to blame you." O'Neill smiled reassuringly, "And it may be the only chance we have to get everything working again."

"Okay..." Cally slowly made her way to the raised pedestal and rested her hands upon it, "But don't yell at me if I blow the city up."

"It's more than likely we wouldn't be able to." O'Neill shrugged, "Being all blown up and all."

Cally looked at him for a moment to make sure that he was joking, then closed her eyes and concentrated. The pedestal lit up, and a beam of light washed over her from top to bottom, then back again. It faded, and a woman dressed in a flowing white robe appeared in the middle of the room. She looked Cally straight in the eyes and smiled warmly.

"Welcome, child of Kobol." Her voice was soft and friendly, "You must have many questions."

**To Be Continued...**


	21. Blackout

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 21: ****Blackout**

"Anything?" Weir stood hovering over Lorne's shoulder.

"Nothing: the city is in total lock-down." The Major shook his head, "We have life-support, heating and light; all the basics, but no communications, sensors or weapons. We couldn't even raise the cloak or the shields if we needed to."

"How many people are in area's we can't contact?" The Expedition leader asked.

"Well, Ronon was keeping tabs on a Colonial work-crew preparing one of the towers to hold the overflow of refuges from the fleet. General O'Neill and Dr Jackson were in the chair-room with Major Adama and Petty Officer Tyrol to see if their version of the ATA gene worked the same as ours." Lorne racked his brains, "Aside from the crews manning our SAM and Rail Gun emplacements, everyone else planet-side is still in the main tower."

"Well, tell anyone who can't help us try and get the systems back on-line to report to their quarters for the duration." Weir tried to sound more confident than she felt, "The less people getting under foot, the better."

**

* * *

**

"Hello old friend." Six smiled as she made her way into the mess hall, Baltar trailing behind her like the tail to a particularly direct comet, "It's been too long."

"Not long enough." Athena glared at her former compatriot, wishing that she'd been allowed to keep her side-arm, "And I am not your friend."

"Acquaintance then?" Six sat on the over side of the table to the Agathon's, "I'd hate for you to consider me an enemy when we have so much in common..."

"The only thing we have in common is that we are both Cylons." The Raptor pilot snapped back, "I left for love. You left because it suited your personal goals." She leaned over the table, "Tell me; do the Tau'ri know the part you played in the destruction of the Twelve Colonies?"

"Dr Weir and General O'Neill know; I had to disclose everything when I requested asylum." Six nodded coolly, "But the peace treaty did grant full pardon for any and all crimes committed during the war, so there is nothing they could hold against me." She leaned in closer so their faces were only inches apart, "I saved your daughter. Not to gain favour or because it served my goals, but because I felt it was the right thing to do."

Athena sat motionless for a moment, trying to read the emotions on the other woman's face. Their shared past was not something she wanted to dwell on: while she had not personally been involved in the plot to destabilise the Colonial Fleet, she had done some underground work on Caprica before the war had started. Her reassignment to 'help' Helo in his bid to escape the Cylon occupation had been unexpected: Eights hadn't been designed for that sort of work, as the Six's were normally tasked with seduction.

But Helo had had feelings for Boomer, and it had been easy to fool him into think that she was his former shipmate. But then her own feelings for him had started to develop, and everything had gotten complicated.

"One favour." Athena's voice was low and cold, "That's all you get: one favour to call in. But after that, we're done."

* * *

The two Colonials on sentry duty never knew what hit them: Ronon dropped from the air vent as silence as a shadow but with the force of an avalanche. Grabbing the two stunned men by the side of the head he brought his hands together as hard as he could. There was a slightly damp crunch as the two skulls connected with enough forcer to render both men unconscious. They were soon hog-tied, gagged and dragged into a side-room to be dealt with later.

Ronon checked their weapons: both were armed with semi-automatic pistols similar to those used by the Atlantis expeditions military contingent, but with some minor differences. One also carried a snub-nosed SMG with two extra magazines. They weren't much compared to his own gun, but if there was one thing he had learned, it was that only a fool passed up the opportunity to add more weapons to his arsenal.

Slipping the two pistols into his belt, Ronon slung the SMG over his shoulder by its strap and slowly started to make his way along the corridor.

**

* * *

**

"What do you mean, our sensors can see anything?" Caldwell stood, looking at the helmsman.

"It's like Atlantis isn't even there, sir." The young captain shook his head, "We can see it, visually, but some kind of ECM system is blocking everything else."

"They never say anything about this on the recruitment posters." Caldwell muttered under his breath, "Find out where General O'Neill is and let him know what's happening." He activated the intercom built into the arm of his chair, "Hermiod, please report to the bridge: we have a situation."

* * *

The wail of the General Quarters alarm woke Adama from a fitful sleep, and he reached up to the intercom built into the bulkhead above his bed, "What's going on?"

"_I wish I knew, Bill._" Tigh sounded worried, "_Atlantis has disappeared._"

"What do you mean, disappeared?" Adama pulled himself up into a sitting position and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, "How can an entire city just disappear?"

"_If I knew that, I wouldn't have sounded General Quarters._" The XO replied, "_It's still there, we just can't pick it up on DRADIS: I'm sending a couple of_ Vipers _down to have a closer look and to try and contact our people_."

"How many of our people are down there?"

"_Apollo, Helo, Athena, Cally and the work party we put together to try and set up temporary living accommodation for some of our people. But we can't raise anyone down there on the wireless._"

"Contact the _Daedalus_: ask them what the hell's going on." Adama stood, looking round for his uniform, "Set Condition Two across the fleet: if this is anything we should be worried about, I want to be ready to jump out at a moments notice."

"_I'm on it._" Tigh sounded a little more sure of himself, "_I should have more for you by the time you get here. XO out._"

Adama grabbed his trousers and was putting them on when the door to the small, private head adjacent to his quarters opened and President Roslin stepped out.

"I heard everything." She slipped her earrings back in, "I take it that now is not a good time to talk about last night?"

"That would seem to be the case." Adama nodded, "I'll let you know what's going on as soon as I find out myself."

"I'd better head back to _Colonial One_: this is going to get out, and the press are going to want answers." Roslin kissed the Admiral lightly on the lips, "I'll see you later."

"You can count on it." Adama nodded with a smile. He watched the President leave, then went back to looking for his tunic.

**

* * *

**

"We have partial power back to Operations and the Jumper bay." McKay pulled himself out from under the main control console, "We had to cut all links between the main tower and the rest of the city and reset one of our backup generators, but we at least have external communications back."

"What about internal communications and sensors?" Weir asked hopefully.

"Still inoperative." The physicist shook his head, "They're getting power, but the jamming field is still up: not even Thor can find a way through it. We have no way of telling what's going on in the rest of the city."

"I'm sure there's no reason to worry." Zelenka did his best to sound reassuring, "They're probably just sitting around, waiting."

**

* * *

**

Bullets thudded into the wall as Ronon dived for cover behind an overturned table. The thick metal shook as a grenade detonated, filling the air with smoke. He used the confusion to snap off another couple of shots, downing two of his opponents before they had the chance to recover.

"It's no use!" A voice called out, "We're willing to die if needed."

"That just makes my job a little easier." The Satedan responded, "But when they ask me afterwards, what reason should I give for what you're doing?"

"We are The Earth Protectorate, and we will destroy this city to stop the Cylons and the Wraith from destroying the Thirteenth Tribe!" There was a number of voice around the room agreeing with the first speaker, and Ronon paid attention to just where they were. "Earth must survive, even if it means we have to die here!"

"That's your opinion." Ronon stood as quickly as he could, one of his commandeered gun zeroing in on the ringleader. He pulled the trigger once, a single bullet finding its mark on the bridge of the other man's nose, blowing his brains out the back of his head and across the wall behind him.

The body fell back and hit the floor as silence descended upon the room. Ronon looked at the other terrorists, his eyes searching for any sign of movement. He saw one of them move his hand towards another grenade and shook his head slowly. The man chose to ignore the suggestion, and earned himself a trio of bullets in the chest from the SMG in Ronon's other hand. This snapped the others out of their momentary paralysis, and they all went for their weapons.

Ronon fired a burst at three who'd made the mistake of standing together as he dropped down onto one knee to avoid the return fire. His moves had a fluid grace as he moved from target to target. He saw a grenade flying trough the air towards him out of the corner of one eye and reacted instructively: his right leg came up, his foot finding purchase on the edge of the overturned table. Pushing down with all his might, Ronon launched himself through the air, twisting as he went to snap off another pair of shots as two of the sentries came through the open door. Both men took a round to the right knee, effectively putting them out of the fight.

The hammer on the SMG fell on an empty chamber, and Ronon discarded it, drawing the other captured pistol and gunning down the woman who'd thrown the grenade just as it went off. The concussive blast caught him and slammed him into the wall. He saw stars for a moment before shaking his head clear, only to find that he'd dropped both of his guns. A quick glance told him that there was only one hostile left in the room, and his hand grabbed a knife from his belt. The perfectly balanced blade sliced through the air and hit its target in the left shoulder, the sudden pain making him trip and fall.

Ronon was on him before he had a chance to get up, and a solid right-hook knocked the man out cold. Standing, the Satedan looked at the device the man had been running towards: he couldn't decipher the instructions, but he'd spent enough time around weapons of all conceivable type in his lifetime to recognise a bomb of some kind when he saw it. Careful not to touch it, he made sure that there was no apparent countdown already in progress, then checked the dead and injured terrorists to make sure that none of them had anything that could be a remote detonator.

The far door was forced open and Ronon span round, drawing his energy pistol as he fell into a ready stance. Teyla stood in the half open doorway, an inquisitive look on her face.

"Dr Weir sent me to check on you when we lost power." She explained, then motioned to the bodies spread around the room, "I see that you managed to keep yourself occupied."

"Just something I had to take care of." Ronon shrugged, "Nothing important."

"Feel better?" His team-mate asked.

"A little." He admitted, slipping his gun back into hits holster, "Sometimes it helps to work through your aggression."

**To Be Continued...**

_So, yeah, I went an entire chapter without touching on what's going on in the hologram room.  
__If you're only just working out that I'm an utter bastard when it comes to cliffhangers, then you've not been paying attention..._


	22. A House Divided

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 22: ****A House Divided**

"Who in the whatnot?" O'Neill blinked, "What did hologram-lady just say?"

"She called Cally a _'Child of Kobol_'." Jackson took a step closer to the control pedestal, "What do you know of Kobol?"

"The Kobol Project." A holographic map of the Pegasus galaxy appeared near the celling, Lantea and another planet highlighted, "With the war against the Wraith continuing with only one end in sight, the Atlantean High Council ordered the creation of a safe-haven. The world selected was known as Kobol, and already had a small but growing human population, but lacked a Stargate, cutting it off from the other inhabited words of the galaxy. Thus began our grand experiment: could we coexist freely with a human population without turning down the path taken by the Ori. Using our most advanced technology, we created a paradise on Kobol: the human population were protected and guided, but were allowed to retain their free will. Twelve of our most respected scientists and leaders were selected to oversee the experiment: Zeus, Poseidon, Hera, Demeter, Artemis, Apollo, Athena, Hephaestus, Ares, Aphrodite, Hermes and Hestia."

"The Twelve Olympians!" Jackson gasped, then saw the way that O'Neill was looking at him, "The Olympians were the top gods on ancient Greek mythology. Now, we know that the Ancients who returned to Earth after the siege settled in Greece, so that could explain where the legends came from..."

"Danny: let the hologram-lady speak, will you?" The General asked, "I want to see how this one ends."

"She's not a hologram." Jackson shook his head, "I mean, it's a good impression and all, I have to give her credit for trying, but she's not a hologram."

"What is she then?" Cally asked, still more than a little freaked out.

"She's an Ancient." Jackson looked at the woman, "Aren't you."

"You always were too smart for your own good, Daniel Jackson." The 'hologram' turned to look at him, "You of all people know how much I am risking, just showing myself to the four of you."

"I don't understand." Apollo shook his head, "What's going on?"

"Like I said before, the Ancients have very strict rules about non-interference with us mere mortals." Jackson explained, "The reason I was kicked out of their little club the first time was because I tried to stop a guy named Anubis from destroying a planet, even through he was using a weapon the Ancients had left behind." He turned to face the stranger, "So, what do we call you?"

"I am Ganos Lal." The woman nodded, "I can answer some, but not all of your questions: while there are those of us who are sympathetic to your plight, we are in the minority, and can not risk angering the others."

"Well, thanks for nothing then." O'Neill shook his head, "Not that I'd expect anything else from you guys."

"General!" Apollo sounded shocked at the other man's choice of words and tone of voice.

"What, you expect me to bow and scrape?" O'Neill asked, "You may think of them as gods, and in my mind that makes them no better than the damned Ori, but I've had a lot more experience dealing with them than you have. And I for one an sick of this sanctimonious, higher-than-thou crap they spout every time we run into them! They claim to care about us, but to me they're just kids with a science project, waiting to see what happens next. I've seen words, entire civilisations, destroyed: the Ancients could have stepped in at any time and stopped it." He looked at Lal, "And don't give me that _'you need adversity to evolve' _speech: I've heard it all before. But before you go back to your _'higher plane of existence'_, think about this. We're your descendants: Cally and I have your DNA, and one day, our kind is going to find a way to ascend, just like you did. The only question is, do you want us to remember the times you didn't help us, or the times you did?"

"Um, Jack," his friend placed a hand on his shoulder, "Try not to upset the Ancients: this is their city we're standing in."

"No, it isn't." O'Neill shock his head, "They forfeited any claim they had to it when they abandoned it and the entire human population of this Galaxy to the Wraith. We may need to strive to overcome adversity, but no one in this galaxy truly stands a chance against the Wraith, not without outside help."

"You are right." Lal admitted.

"I'm _what_?" O'Neill blinked.

"We turned our back on the people we had sworn to protect, and I am here because of that failure." The Ancient nodded her head, "The other's are watching, so there is a limit to what I can do, but I can say this." She nodded to Apollo, "His people hold the key in what they found in the Temple of Five." She looked up suddenly, then transformed into her natural energy state before disappearing through the ceiling.

"Well, that was, unexpected." Jackson took his glasses off and started to clean them, "Anyone care to take a guess at how we write this one up in our reports?"

**

* * *

**

"Wow!" McKay pushed himself away from the console he'd been working on as it lit back up, "As much as I'd like to take the credit, I didn't do that!"

"What happened?" Weir asked, worried that something else had gone wrong.

"We have main power." Zelenka explained, "All of our systems are coming back on-line: communications, sensors, shield, cloak, everything."

"And it wasn't me." McKay repeated, "What ever it was that happened, fixed itself."

"My father told me never to look a gift horse in the mouth." Weir let out a sigh of relief, "Take a head count, make sure everyone's still where we left them, then contact the _Daedalus_, _Galactica_ and the Cylons; let them know what happened and that we're back in business..."

A pair of sonic booms shook the tower, and McKay called up the close range sensors on the main screen, "We just got buzzed by a pair of Colonial _Vipers_: looks like some was missing us."

"Anything I should know?" O'Neill appeared on the landing.

"How did you get back here so quickly?" Weir asked.

"Cally tripped some kind of automated program; it transported us to the teaching room downstairs." The General Explained, "We got to talk to an Ancient, who gave us some answers..."

"Before you stated to insult her." Jackson pointed out, "Why do you keep mouthing off to powerful aliens? First the Goa'uld, then the Asgard, and now the Ancients?"

"Something I should ask my therapist about?" O'Neill asked sarcastically, making the other man roll his eyes in dismay. He turned back to face Weir, "Anyway, it'll all be in my report." He pointed a finger at Apollo, "You'd better report in, and I want to know just what you're people found at this 'Temple of Five' that's so important."

"I'll see what I can do." The pilot nodded as he headed back to the landing pad where he'd left the _Raptor_ he'd brought down, motioning for Cally to follow.

"So what exactly did happen?" Weir asked once they were out of earshot.

"Long story." O'Neill signed, "Come on; I'll explain everything in your office."

**

* * *

**

"Well, that was certainly unexpected." Becket rested his hands on the desk, "Let's make sure that all of our systems are back up and running properly."

The rest of the medical set about checking over the infirmary's collection of human and Ancient equipment, the CMO walked over to Hera's bed and made sure that his young patient was unaffected by the unexplained power loss. Thankfully, she seemed to have slept though it, be he noted that she was running a slight fervour, probably a side effect of the medication she had been given during the operation to repair her bowel obstruction. He picked up her chart and made a note to change the antibiotics they had given her to help fend off and infections.

"Incoming wounded." An orderly called out in warning as the main doors opened and a stream of stretchers came in, carried by members of Atlantis' security contingent. More guards followed, armed with Wraith stunner's, their eyes watching for any sign of hostile movement.

"What's going on here?" Becket asked as Teyla followed the last stretcher.

"We don't really know." The Athosian shrugged, "They were planning to detonate some kind of bomb, but Ronon managed to stop them."

"A bomb!" Becket gasped, "Has anyone reported this to Elizabeth?"

"Ronon radioed it in as soon as we got communications back." Teyla nodded, "She sent him to find Captain Agathon: he's the ranking Colonial officer still in Atlantis, and we hope he might be able to shed some light on everything."

**

* * *

**

"It's a nuke all right." McKay looked at the device Ronon had founded, "Small, sub-kiloton: on a par with, say, the M-388 _'Davy Crockett_' system the US Army developed during the Col War."

"How in Gods name did they manage to smuggle a nuke down here?" O'Neill looked ready to punch the first person who came within arms reach, "How much damage are we talking about?"

"On its own? Probably take out this building and severally damage those around it." McKay stood, "As for how much damage it would have done to Atlantis? The city would have survived, but we would have had to decontaminate a large part of the city, depending on the prevailing winds. And there would be other structural damage."

"Can you disarm it?" The General asked.

"I'd rather not even try." McKay shook his head, "I've no idea how these things work; I could set it off by accident if I go in blind."

"I'll have Dr Baltar me down and give you a hand: he's our new resident genius on Colonial technology." O'Neill turned round, and grabbing Helo by his uniform, pushed him up against the wall, "What the hell are you people playing at? You pull any more shit like this and I will personally shoot the _Galactica_ out of the sky! You here me?"

"I can assure you that this wasn't sanctioned by President Roslin or the Admiral." Helo protested, "We've had trouble with the Earth Protectorate before: they tried to destroy the FTL's of every ship in the fleet to stop us from leading the Cylons to Earth. We want to find out how they got their hands on that bomb just as much as you do."

"You do that!" O'Neill let him go, "You find them, and when you do, you give them to me; because their ass is grass and I'm a lawnmower! I've spent nine years trying to protect Earth, and Atlantis is the best chance we've got to do just that. And I will not have it endangered by a bunch of assholes who came looking for our help! Consider the offer to house some of your civilian population rescinded!"

**To Be Continued...**


	23. Realpolitik

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 23: ****Realpolitik**

"Things are not going well." President Roslin took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes, "We need to get back into the Thirteenth Tribes good graces or we may lose their support entirely, and that will leave us fending off the Wrath on our own."

"We're not ready for that, not yet." Adama shook his head, "My people have been working round the clock to try and repair the damage the _Galactica_ took over New Caprica, but even with a fully stocked and supplied fleet yard, it would take three months just to straighten out the damage to the superstructure, let alone anything else."

"But could we, if we got the _Galactica_ repaired?" Zarek asked from his seat next to the Admiral, "I'm not saying that we should, but it might strengthen our position if we weren't so reliant on the Thirteenth Tribe and their allies."

"Fully armed and repaired, the _Galactica_ could probably take on one, maybe two Wraith cruisers and stand a better than 50/50 chance of surviving. Any more than that..." Adama shook his head, "All I can say is that we will do everything in our power to protect this fleet. Exactly what that's worth, I can't say."

"And the artefacts that your son mentioned?" The Vice-President asked.

"These." Roslin lifted the two crystal-like objects from a box behind her desk and handed them over, "We have no idea what they are, other than very, very old and evidently very, very important."

"I think that we should give one to Dr Weir's people, as a sign of good-faith." Zarek examined one of the two object closely, "The Cylons gave them an entire Battlestar, and see to be doing a better job of making friends then we are. This," he held up the crystal, "is our carrot. The other is the stick."

"By hand over one, and letting them know we have another, we regain some lost ground and put ourselves in a position of power." Roslin nodded, "We know that they have to be important, if this 'Ancient' seemed to think that they hold the key to defeating the Wraith." She looked at Adama, "You've spent more time with General O'Neill than anyone else; do you think we can trust him not to use this teleportation system they have to just take the other, whatever it is, away?"

"The General strikes my as an honourable man who's found himself in an impossible position: he has been tasked with defending not only his own people, but his entire world, from a seemingly endless string of dangers." Adama thought on it for a moment, "In his position, I would have done many the same things: he has little reason to trust us, and yet despite everything that's happened, including the deaths of several officers under his command, we are still receiving food and medical aid from Atlantis. They are still willing to help us find a new home world, away from the Cylons and the Wraith." He nodded, "I think we can trust him."

**

* * *

**

"And we're on-line." McKay reported as he tapped the last few commands into a laptop. The lights dimmed momentously, then the CIC came to life, the displays translating data from all parts of the _Pegasus_ into easily read schematics. The main DRADIS console came to life, displaying the position of every ship on orbit. The new consoles installed to handle the shields, communications and structural integrity systems also came on line, the data displayed on data-pads bolted to any available work surface, "It isn't pretty, but it works."

"I'm so happy I could almost kiss you!" O'Neill grinned from ear to ear, "But, honestly, you're not my type."

"Just happy you've finally gotten your honking huge spaceship, sir?" Carter asked from the hatch.

"It's what I've always wanted." The General smiled, then winked, "Well, one thing I've always wanted..."

"Sir!" Carter looked round; the rest of the work crew had dispersed around the Battlestar to see what else they could upgrade, leaving just the three of them. She looked at McKay, "Rodney..."

"I'm staying out of this!" The other physicist help up his hands defensibly, "Trust me, I don't want to be known as the man who upset what I have been told by those in the know is the largest betting pool in the entire history of the US Air Force."

O'Neill and Carter looked at each other for a moment, then stepped apart with a slight blush.

"I know that neither of you have no reason to take advice from me, but here goes." McKay took a deep breath, "I spent the better part of two years watching Elizabeth and John dance around their feelings for each other, and I can see how hard she's taken his death. Don't let yourselves end up like that."

"That's..." O'Neill looked at McKay blankly for a second, "Okay, who are you and what have you done with the real Rodney McKay?"

"Oh, I'm still me." There was a momentary pained expression on McKay's face, "I've been through a lost, this past week, and I've had to re-evaluate a lot of things." He sighed, "I'm not the easiest person to like. It's my own fault; I tend to let everyone know just how smart I am at the first chance I get. I know this and over the years I've come to accept that I'm not going to have many friends, and so I've developed defence mechanisms to deal with it, one of which is the brash way I deal with people who I don't think will like me. I'm not a people person, so why should I try and act like one? Out of all of the people on Atlantis, I have maybe four that I would call true friends rather than just colleges and acquaintances. I have excepted this, but that does not mean that I want everyone else to be the same. So my advice stands; don't leave it too late." he stood, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm needed elsewhere."

O'Neill and Carter watched him leave the CIC without a word, confused as how to react.

**

* * *

**

"The work on the _Pegasus_ is proceeding as planned." Thor stood in front of the main display screen, "While many of the upgrades General O'Neill requested are either impractical or would take too long, we have been able to, I believe the Earth phrase is 'bolt-on' several basic system upgrades, including self-contained shield generators. While they are no where near as powerful as those on the _Samantha Carter_, they are as powerful as the first generation of shields we gave the SGC for use on the _Prometheus_."

"Anything is better than nothing." Caldwell agreed, "We've also re-loaded her missile tubes with our latest-generation naquadah-enhanced ship-to-ship missiles. McKay tells me that we might be able to rig up naquadah warheads for the main guns, but that would take more time then we have."

"It all sounds very impressive." Cavil nodded appreciatively, "But is there any way my people could have access to some of these systems? While we are willing to send ship into battle alongside our Tau'ri and Asgard allies, our ships have proven to be vulnerable to Wraith weapons. We would like some insurance that. Given the depleted nature of our fleet, we could get at least some of the ships we send back in one piece."

"We have enough parts on hand to provide the Basestar's and Resurrection ship you are sending with similar shield modulus. In light of the serious nature of the situation we have found ourselves in, my people are willing to install them." Thor agreed, then held up a hand, "But be warned: the generators are fully self-contained and are designed to render themselves useless if any attempt is made to gain access to their inner workings."

"I assure you that we would attempt no such thing." The Cylon leader reassured his counterpart.

* * *

"Well?" Athena asked as she stepped out of the small bathroom off the guest quarters, wrapping a towel around her still damp hair.

"They're letting us stay as long as Dr Becket wants to keep an eye on Hera's condition." Her husband sat in one of the armchairs, unbuttoning his tunic, "After that, we'll be politely asked to leave Atlantis: General O'Neill wants as few Colonials gown here as necessary. Not that I can blame him, after what almost happened."

"I just hope it'll be safe to take her back with us." Athena finished sat in the other chair, the damp robe she wore clinging to her body, "I don't trust the President not to try something else."

"You trust the Admiral, right?" Helo asked, and waited until he got a nod, "I'll ask him what he thinks..."

"Maybe we could stay?" Athena asked, "If we can talk the Admiral into assigning us to Atlantis as lesion officers, we can stay here away from Roslin."

Helo was about to respond when there was a knock at the door. He looked at his wife, who raised an eyebrow inquisitively, before heading back into the bathroom. Walking over to the door, Helo activated what he had been told was an intercom system.

"Helo?"

"_It's General O'Neill: I wanted to apologise for my actions earlier_." The older man's voice came from the small speaker-grill, "_Can I come in?_"

"Okay." Helo straightened his uniform as best he could and pressed the door controls. After so many years on the _Galactica_, he was still a little surprised every time a door opened silently and without the need to undo a massive wheel-lock first.

O'Neill was dressed in a set of BDU's rather than the dress uniform his rank normally required of him while on duty, and he held a cardboard tray holding six glass bottle of a thick, dark liquid in one hand.

"A peace offering, from my private stash on-board the _Odyssey_." He handed it over to the startled Captain, "It's an Earth drink called _Guinness_. I find it's a good substitute for, well, food."

"Thank you." Helo accepted the gift as gracelessly as he could, "Please, come in; Sharon's just getting changed."

"If it's a bad time..." O'Neill started, but Helo stepped to one side and motioned for him to enter.

**

* * *

**

Apollo sat in the otherwise deserted pilots ready-room, alone with his thoughts. He wished he'd had time to work out his true feelings for Starbuck before she'd been killed, and he knew that he'd been operating on automatic pilot ever since. Dee had noticed, but still hadn't said a word, placing even more strain on their already tenuous marriage. He wasn't sure what would have happened if Starbuck hadn't died or if she'd been as willing to walk away from her husband as he had his wife.

The CAG's train of thought was interrupted by the sound of the hatch opening. He looked round to see Tigh step in, the gruff XO looking even older than he really was: the death of his own wife back on New Caprica still sitting heavily on his mind.

"Mind if I join you?" Tigh asked, motioning to one of the many empty seats around the normally busy Triad table.

"Not at all." Apollo directed him to an empty seat, but remained in the same sloughing position he'd maintain for several hours.

"I managed to trade a couple of bottles of Chief Tyrol's brew for this with one of the pilots from the _Daedalus_." The XO placed a tall bottle of rich amber liquor on the table, "He called it _'Tennessee sipping-whisky'_, whatever that means, but it's supposed to be the good stuff. Care to join me?"

Apollo responded by holding out his coffee cup. Tigh smiled slightly as he opened the bottle and poured a good measure of the liquor into the cup, before adding an equal amount to his own. He sniffed it, taking in the rich aroma, the held up his cup.

"To Kara Thrace." He toasted, "The most ill-disciplined, pigheaded, self-assured, but talented pilot ever to strap herself into a _Viper_."

"Starbuck." Apollo returned the toast, then tipped his cup up and swallowed the contents in a single mouthful. He gasped for air as the whisky burned its way down his throat and deep into the pit that was his stomach. Involuntary tears filled his eyes as he coughed, stunned by the kick the drink had.

A much more accomplished drinker, Tigh seemed to suffer almost no ill effects, and savoured he rich taste of the of the Earth-liquor before swallowing it bit by bit, allowing his body to get use to it.

"That's the good stuff all right." He looked at the bottle, "If I ever get to Earth and meet this _Jack Daniels_, I'm going to buy him a drink."

"Sure." Apollo gasped, still trying to recover from the alien brew, "So, why exactly did you come down here?"

"The Old Man's worried about you, not that he'd ever admit it." Tigh offered the other man a refill, but it was refused, "Part of my job as XO is to deal with the little problems the Admiral doesn't have time for before they become big problems that he has to deal with. And if that means giving our CAG a sharp kick in the head, then so be it." He sighed, "Starbuck was a hero to almost everyone in the fleet, but the problem with heroes is that, as much as we don't want to admit it, they can die just as easily as the rest of us. I know that there was more to it that that between the two of you, but I'm not going to pry. All I'm going to say is that if Starbuck saw you moping around like his, she'd kick your sorry ass from one end of this fleet to the other and back again."

"That she would." Apollo couldn't help but smile, "That she would."

"Mourn her, remember her, then put it behind you." Tigh stood, grasping the bottle of whisky in one hand, "We're going to need you with your head in the game when we go up against those Wraith ships that are headed this way."

**To Be Continued...**

_I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading and reviewing so far: this story has become the most popular story I've ever written.  
__Thank you all for your continued support._


	24. Quid Pro Quo

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 24: ****Quid Pro Quo**

The atmospheric shuttle came in across the sea, its _Viper_ escorts staying above and behind to provide the maximum range for their more powerful sensors, despite the fact that they were receiving DRADIS feeds from the _Galactica_ and a number of _Raptors_ in low-orbit. While there was a natural good-humoured rivalry between the pilots of the sleek fighters and their slower support ships, both sides knew that they needed the other. Whoa betide any civilian pilot who made the mistake of making fun of a _Raptor's_ crew while a _Viper_ pilot was in earshot.

Tom Zarek sat in the rear passenger compartment, alone aside from the small security detail he was required to have with him at all times in his capacity as Vice President. He had to suppress the urge to smile again at the strange hand fate had dealt him: a former wanted terrorist and prisoner of conscience from the mistreated world of Sagittaron, the holocaust that had engulfed the Colonies had propelled him from the brink of obscurity, to his people's freely elected representative in the reformed Quorum of Twelve and ultimately to the presidency itself.

His current, lower position was of his own choice: Roslin was too bright a star to try and eclipse, but her charisma was a double edged sword that Zarek could use to his own advantage. With the spotlight locked firmly on his superior and the Admiral, he was free to follow his own avenues of advancement. While the living hell that had been the Cylon occupation of New Caprica had thought him the error in trying to overthrow the government from the outside, Laura Roslin wouldn't be president forever.

And Tom Zarek, man of the people, fully intended to have his power base in position for when that day finally came.

"_We're coming into land, Mr Vice-President._" The pilot reported over the intercom, and Zarek put away the papers he'd been reading.

What passed for the Colonial diplomatic corps had next to no information on the senior members of the Atlantis Expedition, he had managed to memorise most of it. A lot of it was gossip that had been overheard by other Expedition members, as well as statements from those Colonials that had spent any time with them. He was sure that somewhere, buried deep inside the few thousands words of text, was the key he needed. Zarek glanced to his right: one of the guards sat in the window seat, chained to a locked metal box that contained one of the strange crystals that had been recovered from the Temple of Five. No one in the fleet knew what they were, but if they were of as much importance as they seemed, then they would make powerful bargaining chips.

And all he had to do was supplant Roslin and Adama as the new face of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol at least as far as Thirteenth Tribe was concerned.

**

* * *

**

"We should talk..."

"Now is not the best of time: too many people watching us."

"But McKay..."

"Later."

* * *

"I wish I was dead." Helo groaned, leaning back against the wall for support, "I'm sure General O'Neill was trying to poison us..."

"He did warn you it was strong." His wife couldn't hide her amused expression, "And you did insist on drinking four of them."

"So? You drank the other two, but you seem okay."

"I'm a Cylon: we're made of sterner stuff than you humans."

"I hate you right now." Helo lamented as the shuttle they were waiting for came in to land, forcing him to stand up straight, "It's important you know that."

**

* * *

**

"Happy birthday, Chief." Adama walked across the hanger deck as a F-302 was towed in through the main airlock, "Sorry I couldn't find a bow big enough."

"It's what I've always wanted." Tyrol watched as the sleek fighter was brought into the middle of the repair bay. "How did you get hold of her?"

"Despite everything that's happened, General O'Neill still sees the Wraith as the number one threat." The Admiral explained, "With that in mind, he wants to give out fighters the best chance he can of surviving a head-to-head battle against their Wraith counterparts." He waited until the 302 was in position, then started to walk round it, "I want you to strip his thing down as fast as you can and see if there's anything useful that we can incorporate into our _Vipers_."

"If what the Major said after that training exercise is true, they're slower than a_ Viper_ on full burn, but have higher acceleration and can turn sharper." The Chief pushed an inspection ladder up against the fighter's cockpit and climbed up to help the pilot disembark, "Would be interesting to see how they do it."

"We'll see." Adama nodded as the pilot climbed out of his cockpit and descended the ladder. It wasn't until the antiquated helmet and oxygen masks were removed that he realised that the pilot was a woman.

"1st Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey, requesting permission to come aboard." The young pilot saluted, "Colonel Carter asked me to bring the 302 over and to explain and questions you might have."

"You're kind of young to be a pilot." Adama returned the salute.

"I'm not normally assigned to one: I'm and physicist specialising in quantum physics and hyperspace theory by training." Hailey explained, "I've only just qualified on the 302, and need to keep my hours up before they pull my flight status."

"Well, glad we could help." Adama gestured towards the Chief, "This is Chief Petty Officer Galen Tyrol: he heads up our hanger deck crew here on the _Galactica_. He's the one who'll be handling our end of the technology exchange."

"Pleasure to meet you, Chief." The young Lieutenant offered her hand.

"Glad to have you with us." Tyrol shook the offered hand, "I guess we should get started: how can your fighters pull so many G's without harming the pilot."

"They're fitted with what we call _'inertial dampeners'_." Hailey explained, "Come on, I'll show you what they look like."

**

* * *

**

Stargate operations was its usual hive of activity, but with the added threat of the approaching Wraith Hive Ships hanging over head like the Sword of Damocles, the background chatter had dropped to almost nil.

"So," Weir stood looking out the door of her office at her domain, "what can you tell me about Tom Zarek?"

"Depending upon who you ask, he's ether a hero of the people who stood up for the rights of the downtrodden people of Sagittaron who was sent to prison by a corrupt government who tried to silence him, or a terrorist who killed innocent people when he bombed a government building and was once pledged to the violent overthrow of the Colonial government." Baltar sat relaxed on the sofa set against the opposite wall, his head tilted back, eyes closed, "Personally, I think he's a little of both: he served as my Vice President on New Caprica, until the Cylon's arrived and took over. He has a large power base among some ships of the fleet: while the survives of the more sophisticated Colonies rally behind Roslin and Adama, the less affluent see him as their champion. And I must admit that he has done a lot of good for them, cutting through the red tape to get much needed work done, but always at a political price."

"Sounds like a rather shrewd operator." Weir nodded as the doors on the far side of the Stargate opened to admit Zarek, Helo, Athena and their escorts, "Do you want to be here for this?"

"I'd rather not." Baltar stood, "We parted on less than friendly terms, and I do believe that Dr Zelenka would like my assistance taking apart your _Raptor's_ FTL drive."

"You know the way?" Weir asked.

"I think I'm getting the layout of the city down in my head." The former Colonial President nodded, "Good day."

Weir waited until Baltar was gone before stepping out of her office and walking over to meet Zarek and his party half way. "Mr Vice-President, welcome back to Atlantis."

"Why thank you, Doctor." Zarek smiled warmly, "And please, call me Tom."

"Then please, call me Elizabeth." Weir returned the smile, mentally sizing up her opponent, "Your last communication said that you were bringing one of the items you found in the Temple of Five with you?"

"Yes, this." Zarek turned to Helo, who held up the secured box. The Vice-President opened it and pulled out the crystal it contained, "We found two of these. Our people tell us they're very old, but apart from that, nothing."

"Oh my god..." Weir gasped, "_**RODNEY!**_"

"What now?" The physicist answered curtly, annoyed that he was being asked to add yet another task to his already lengthy _'to-do'_ list. He walked over to the small group and looked at the crystal Zarek was holding, "Holy crap!"

"I take it then that you know what this is?" Helo asked.

"It's a Zed-PM!" McKay grabbed the crystal and held it up tot he light, "I'm going to have to run a few tests, see how depleted it is..."

"What is it?" Zarek repeated the other Colonials question.

"A Zero Point Module; a sort of universal power cell the Ancients used in everything from small outposts to entire cities." Weir explained, "Each module contains a tap to a small area of artificially-created subspace. They can draw incredible amounts of energy from this area, but ultimately entropy sets in and they become depleted. We have no idea how the make them, or where the Ancients may have stored them. We've found a handful of them over the years, but most of them were depleted. The only one in our possession that is usable is powering Atlantis."

"Another two and we could get all of the cities systems on-line." McKay looked like a kid on Christmas morning, "Even if this one is only partly full, there are dozens of uses we could put it."

"You said you found two." Weir looked at Zarek, "Where's the other?"

"I'm not at liberty to say. That one," The Vice-Presidents nodded to the crystal McKay was holding, "you can have, as a gesture of good will. But if they're as powerful as you say, we might be better off holding on to the other one."

"Don't be ridicules." McKay snapped, forgetting who he was talking to, "You have no idea how to use it. And even if you did, you don't have the faintest clue how to integrate it with your technology."

"What Rodney is trying to say is that, given the threat the approaching Wraith ships represent to both our peoples, it would be of immense help if you handed over the other Module." Weir did her best to make up for the scientists poor choice of words, "Unlike any Colonial or Cylon vessels, the _Daedalus_ and the _Odyssey_ are designed to interface with a Zee-PM and can make best use of them."

"Why do you call them _Zee_-PM's, while Dr McKay calls them _Zed_-PM's?" Athena asked.

"Because American's insist on mutilating the English language." McKay explained, "Look, the fact remains that we're the only ones who can make use of them."

"That as may be," Zarek casually slipped his hands into his pockets, "but what's in it for us?"

**To Be Continued...**

_It's my story and I'll ship if I want to..._


	25. The Ties That Bind

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 25: ****The Ties That Bind**

"I would like to thank you again for agreeing to this tour." Thor looked around the _Galactica's_ CIC, ignoring the way some of the crew were looking at him, "You have a most remarkable ship: I doubt that my people would be able to build something that could withstand so much without relying on our most advanced technology."

"Why thank you, Commander." Adama nodded, "Having observed just a little of what your own ship is capable of, I take that as a compliment."

"Feel free to." The Asgardian leader nodded, deciding to let the slip over his rank slide.

"There was something I wanted to ask you." Adama led the way out of the CIC and along one of the main passageways, "I was hoping that you could give me some insight into the Tau'ri, in particular the way that they seem to be more open to the Cylons, considering all that has happened."

"A very complex question, with an equally complex answer." Thor thought about it for a moment, "There is a saying on Earth, a quote from one of their political leaders, that General O'Neill explained to me once: _one death is a tragedy, a million is a statistic_. While I believe that it is not entirely true, and that the people of the Tau'ri do feel for your loss, they find it hard to comprehend it due to the numbers involved. What happened to Dr McKay is easier for them to relate to, especially for General O'Neill; he has been in a similar situation several times. With McKay, someone they know, they can see the changes in him since he returned to Atlantis, where as they did not know any of the people you lost on your home worlds."

"I was afraid that it was something like that." Adama nodded, "It's going to take us a long time to atone for that."

"Give them time." Thor reassured his guide, "If there is one virtue the Tau'ri have that has impressed my people the most, it is their ability to forgive an honest mistake. Give them enough time, and they will come to understand your position. Maybe not all of them, but most."

**

* * *

**

"Thank you for helping with this." Cottle spoke with the remains of a cigarette hanging from one corner of his mouth, "Our medical staff is stretched as it is. Almost 2,000 extra refuges to look after, many in bad shape after years in Cylon hands..." He shook his head as he opened the last hatch leading into the landing bay, "It's just too much."

"I'm glad I could help." Becket nodded, carrying a full medical kit in each arm, his laptop hanging over his shoulder in a satchel, "This have been a little tense down on Atlantis; I need some time to get my head straight."

Dogsville had expanded exponentially since the last time Becket had been there, but thankfully a lot more care had been taken in the construction of the newer dwellings. He saw standard SGC issue tents dotted amid the more unconventional shelters, but there were also walled off shower and toilet units spaced around the cavernous bay. A number of medics in Atlantis expedition uniforms could already be seen moving around from the vantage of the upper walkway,

"Most of the people the Cylon's handed over came from their farms." Cottle explained as he led the way down a flight of stairs to the lower deck, "The worst off are spread out across almost every medical bay and infirmary in the fleet: some will probably never recover, so we just make them as comfortable as we can. The others, as well as a few hundred who appear to have been captured resistance fighters or slave labour, are mainly here or over on the _Astral Queen_; she's the only other ship with room for them."

"I take it that you've taken steps to stop the spread of any infections?"

"We're doing the best we can, but we're short staffed in just about every department: if I ask the Admiral for more hands here, they have to be taken from elsewhere."

"I'm afraid that we're not going to be able to offer much help there: the only way to get more medical staff from Earth is by ship, and we don't have that many that can make the trip in anything approaching a reasonable time frame."

"Then I guess we'll just have to make do with what we have." Cottle held open the flap of one of the larger tents, "This is where we're keeping our most critical patients that don't need the support equipment in infirmary." He walked over to where a a man of about sixty sat on the edge of a cot, a young girl of about two and a half curled up asleep at his side, "How you feeling today, Mr Franklin?"

"Same as ever." The man responded with a gruff yet surprisingly soft voice, "No one will tell me anything, but I know the news ain't good: cancer is cancer is cancer, no mater where it is. I'm just worried that there's not going to be able to look after my granddaughter here when I'm gone." he petted the little girls head softly, brushing a few stray golden hairs away from her face.

"Mr Franklin's daughter died in childbirth about six months after the attack." Cottle explained to Becket, "He had a cabin high in the mountains, a days drive outside Caprica city, and was shielded from the worst of the radiation. We've found no signs of illness in his granddaughter, but..."

"I have Pancreatic cancer; got diagnosed about a year before the war." Franklin shrugged, "I come through two Cylon wars without a scratch, and my own body decides to turn against me." he laughed, "That just so fracking ironic."

"Do you have any other family?" Becket asked.

"Just little Gianne here." Franklin nodded at the still sleeping child, "Named her after her mouth; it seemed like the right thing to do at the time. No, my wife and I only had one child, and I never even met the son-of-a-bitch that got my daughter pregnant that ran out on here. That said, if he hadn't taken off like he did, my Gianne would never have left Caprica City to spend some time with her old man. We never really spoke about her ex: all I know is that his name was Lee something, and that he was a Captain in the Colonial Fleet Reserves."

**

* * *

**

"Oh, he's good." O'Neill paced back and forth, forcing everyone else to periodically move their feet to avoid gotten them stepped on.

Weir's office was packed to the point of standing room only: the expedition leader herself was sat behind her desk, while Woolsey and Caldwell had taken the other two chairs. Cater, Jackson and McKay were sat on the small sofa with Ronon and Teyla perched on either end. Zelenka, Hermiod and Major Lorne were standing backed up against the window over looking the Stargate, giving the frustrated General as much room as possible.

"He's very good." Weir agreed, "But that's not the point: what can we give them that we haven't already?"

"Not the _Pegasus_!" O'Neill shock his head, "I know that they'd like her back, but we've already started refitting her. Hell, we'll probably we tinkering with her right up until the shooting starts, but we've invested too much in her to just hand her over at the drop of a hat."

"I think they know that." Jackson took a notebook out of his pocket and flicked through a few pages, "I've spent the past few days talking to President Roslin and some of her advisers: aside from some frankly rather disturbing discussions about their religion and how they react to our view of these _'Lords of Kobol'_, their main area of interest appears to be about the new home world you personally promised that we'd find them. That if we give them some hard facts about the sort of worlds we're talking about, then they might be more willing to look at the Big Picture."

"You think that there might be trouble further along the line where their religion is concerned" Caldwell asked, "Some of them have already tried to set of a nuke in the city..."

"They're a deeply spiritual people." Teyla interrupted, "And I can understand their unease: my own people found it hard to adjust to the idea that the Ancestors we were thought to pray to were a lot like us on so many levels. Even now, there are some among the Athosians who cling to the old ways: such beliefs can be extremely hard to let go off. I still perform many of the old rituals, but mainly because they are a part of my peoples cultural identity, and we do not wish to be assimilated by the myriad cultures of Earth."

"So all we have to respect their traditions and culture, while helping them to come to terms with just how big and bad the universe really is outside of their own little star system?" O'Neill asked sarcastically, "Well why didn't you say so: we're so good at that sort of thing back home..."

"Never the less, we show that that we were serious about finding them a new home, they may hand over the other Zed-PM." Weir nodded, "I'll contact the SGC: have them put together a list of likely planets for both the Colonials and the Cylons to settle on."

**

* * *

**

Helo was reading an e-book on Earth history when the intercom on the table next to his chair chimed. Putting his book down, he pressed the receive button, "Yes?"

"_Captain Agathon, we have a incoming call for you from the_ Galactica." The com-tech reported.

"Put it through." Helo sat up, wondering who could be contacting him so late at night.

"_Captain_." Adama's commanding voice came over loud and clear, "_I hope I'm not interrupting anything?_"

"No sir: I was just catching up on my reading while Sharon is helping the medical staff here build up a database on Cylon physiology."

"_I was hoping to talk to the both of you at the same time, as I need to keep this conversation confidential for reasons that will soon become clear._"

"I'm listening, sir."

"_Having spoken to the President, we have agreed to assign a permanent liaison officer to Atlantis, assuming that Dr Weir and General O'Neill are willing. There is no need to tell you just how important such a posting is, and how much of a responsibility it will be to whomever we chose._"

"I understand, sir. Do you want me to help orientate the liaison officer before returning to the _Galactica_?"

"_Not exactly_." There was a moment of silence, "_I'm assigning you to be our peoples permanent representative to the Atlantis Expedition. Understandably, such a post will require a staff, say one Junior Grade Lieutenant?_"

"Sharon?"

"_If you wish: you'll have to work with whomever you choice, and given the distances involved and difficulties in getting a replacement set from wherever we end up, they will have to be someone you can get along with._"

"I don't know how to thank you, sir. I'm surprised that the President agreed..."

"_The President agreed that any liaison to Atlantis would have to be an officer of the fleet, at least at first, and as such the choice was mine to make. You've proven that you can handle yourself and adapt to a changing environment. I have full confidence in your ability to carry out your new assignment._"

"Thank you, Sir; we won't let you down."

"_I'm sure you won't. Adama out._"

**To Be Continued...**

_Have started a new, full-time job, which cuts into my available writing time (so many hobbies, so little time), so further updates will take longer to appear  
.The good news is that I get my Saturday afternoons and all day Sunday free, so I should be able to get at least some writing done then._

_Till then,  
__Jeff_


	26. The Plainly Spoken Truth

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 26: ****The Plainly Spoken Truth**

"Well, it works," Hailey looked at the readouts on her tablet PC and frowned, "after a fashion. The problem is, inertial dampeners really need to be added at the designed stage if they're going to work properly. That's why we haven't fitted them to our atmospheric fighters on Earth."

"Still, a fifty-percent reduction in g-forces is better than nothing." Tyrol did his best to clean is hands on an already oil-soaked rag, but succeeded only in spreading the smears of lubricant about, "Given enough time, I'm sure that I can rig something better up."

"Time is the one thing we don't have." Hailey disconnected her computer from the makeshift adapter that let it interoperate the data coming from the _Viper's_ on-board systems. "We have four more days before we have to start transferring fighters and people over to the _Pegasus_, and it's probably going to take us that long to rig up dampeners on the rest of the strike-wing."

"Then I'd better see just what she can do." Apollo walked towards them, dressed in his flight suit, helmet in one hand, "Lieutenant Hailey, I presume? Major Lee Adama, Colonial Fleet."

"Major." The Air Force officer nodded politely, unsure just how she was supposed to act around Colonial Officers. "Well, we think we've ironed out all the bugs, but keep an eye on the warning lights: the last thing you want is a sudden increase in G-forces without warning."

**

* * *

"Now that looks a little better." O'Neill stood on the _Odyssey's_ command deck and looked out at the rest of the fleet they had managed to put together.**

The _Pegasus_ was still flanked on either side by an Asgard science vessel, but he'd seen first hand just how much work had been done in such a short space of time. He'd already scheduled a trip out to the inner of the systems two asteroid belts to conduct a live-fire exercise to test just how effective the upgraded weapons and hastily added shields were in a real world situation. The last thing anyone wanted was to go into battle against the Wraith and find that the ship's systems just weren't up to it.

The _Daedalus_ and the _Samantha Carter_ hung in space just ahead of the Battlestar: the Earth-built ship was a lot smaller than its Colonial counterpart, but the graceful Asgard Battlecruiser dwarfed them all, second only in shearer size to the Cylon Resurrection ship that sat in orbit, surrounded by a number of Basestar's. O'Neill knew that the bulk of their fighter-screen would be made up of Cylon _Raiders_, and he longed to see the crescent-shaped ships in action. And if what he had been told was true, they might just have the answer to the problem of fitting a working faster-than-light drive to a fighter, something the best and brightest minds on Earth had been working on for almost ten years with no success.

**

* * *

**

"You're sure?" Weir re-read the report to make sure she hadn't made a mistake the first two times.

"As sure as we can be of anything." McKay nodded, "The Zed-PM Mr Zarek is almost completely unused. I don't think I need to tell you just what that means to us."

"Enough power to run Atlantis for years, if needs be." Weir suppressed a yawn, "Sorry; I've been two days since I last managed to get some sleep."

"You should talk to Carson, when he gets back." The scientist suggested, "We can't have you zoning out on us through lack of sleep."

"What about you?" The expedition leader asked, "How are you feeling?"

"If you're trying to ask about my post-traumatic stress, then I am trying to ignore it by throwing myself into my work, or so Dr Heightmeyer tells me." There was a look of grim humour on McKay's face as he sifted uncomfortably in his seat, "And I have to admit that there is probably a bit of truth in it."

"What happened to you on the _Galactica_ wasn't your fault." Weir did her best to sound reassuring; she'd seen the effects of post-traumatic stress during her time as a diplomat in some of Earth's worst conflicts. The last thing she wanted was to lose someone she was directly responsible for to it.

"I know that, on an intellectual level." McKay admitted, "But it's just, they didn't listen; no matter how many times I tried to tell them that I wasn't a Cylon, they just didn't want to believe it. I've never seen anything like the raw hatred they have for them."

"I have, too many times: Yugoslavia, Rwanda, Chechnya and Darfur." Weir closed her eyes as painful memories, "They may call it _'Ethnic Cleansing_' on CNN to avoid upsetting the audience, but genocide is genocide."

"And now we've got to convince them to ask the Cylon's for help." McKay winced, "I don't envy you."

* * *

One advantage of being an Admiral rather than President was that it was a lot easier to arrange a little privacy: while space was always a premium on any starship, let alone a Battlestar, naval architects had long ago come to the conclusion that a commanding officer needed somewhere that they could be alone, to contemplate and relax away from the rest of the crew. Indeed, the cabin was often the proverbial eye-of-the-storm, the one island of tranquillity in the middle of the constant hive of activity that was the _Galactica_.

Comparatively, _Colonial One_ was a insane asylum in which the inmates were running riot. With the destruction of the _Cloud Nine_ and thus the hastily constructed Quorum chambers, the former liner was now home to the entire civilian arm of the Colonial government. Every cubic centimetre of available space had been pressed into one use or another, meaning that even the Presidents supposable '_private_' quarters were often used for staff meetings of one kind or another. Therefore it wasn't surprising that if the President wanted a totally private conversation with her senior military commander, she had to visit him rather than the other way round.

"You've been busy." Roslin sat back in the surprisingly comfortable armchair, "When we talked about appointing a full-time liaison officer to Atlantis, I had no idea that you had Captain Agathon at the top of your list." She frowned slightly, "Care to tell me why you chose him?"

"Helo's proven remarkably good at finding the common ground between different groups." Adama looked at his Commander and Chief across the top of his glasses, "I don't know anyone who could have done a better job with Dogsville. He's come a long way in a relatively short space of time. Had the war not happened, he could have expected to been given command of his own ship, a few more years experience."

"Yet you remove him from the chain of command and give him what amounts to a desk job?" The President sounded suspicious, "I'm sure that someone else would have been better suited to the job? Lieutenant Gaeta, perhaps?"

"Perhaps, but I need Mr Gaeta where he is." Adama shook his head, "No, the real reason you don't like me assigning the Agathon's to Atlantis is Hera: if they stay there, so does she."

"True; I somehow don't see Dr Weir or General O'Neill taking kindly to any attempt to take her away from her parents." Roslin agreed, somewhat reluctantly, "You know, some people might say that we have a very odd relationship."

Her words hung heavy in the air, seemingly dropping the ambient temperature to around that of liquid helium. Adama put down the file he'd been absent-mindedly looking through and removed his glasses. Roslin tried to read his expression, but his face was set in stone, the same blank mask he used when he had to make a hard decision.

"I don't regret what happened." Adama's voice was cool and level, "I admit that I have, feeling for you; feelings that are perhaps more than I should have, given our relative positions in our society."

"And I have feelings for you, like wise probably more than I should have." Roslin agreed, "But the question is, can we retain our working relationship? I've come to rely on you as my moral compass, the one person I can trust to do what they think is best, no matter what the cost."

"That is just years of military discipline." The Admiral sat back in his chair, "And there have been times when I have had to look for you to find my own way. I don't want to lose what we have, so perhaps now is not the right time to, see what else there is."

"Agreed." The President nodded, "We'll not mention it again until after we've dealt with the Wraith."

**

* * *

**

"Come on in or get lost; either way, close the damn door." A voice came from somewhere in the darkened room.

Helo thought for a second, then stepped in and closed the door. He waited for his eyes to grow accustomed to the dark, then looked around: maybe thirty members of the expedition, along with crew members from the _Daedalus_ and the _Odyssey_ sat in what looked like it was once a lecture hall of some kind. But where the podium had once been, someone had erected a large screen, and the young Colonial officer suddenly realised that he was standing in some kind of theatre.

"Captain." General O'Neill whispered, motioning to an empty seat, "You'd better sit down; the movie is about to start."

"Sir." Helo slipped along the row and into the offered seat as the lights dimmed even lower, "The map I was given said that this was some kind of conference room."

"A little white lie we tell so the bureaucrats back on Earth don't flip out over_ 'unnecessary expenses_'." O'Neill explained, "This place was set up by Colonel Sheppard a year ago: people donate their DVD's to a library, and every night, a couple of films are picked at random and shown. Anyone who's off duty is free to attend, but it's strictly on a _'first come, first served'_ bases. Truth be told, you're lucky to get a seat."

"Maybe I should come back later?" Helo asked, moving to get up.

"No; this will probably tell you more about Earth than anything else." The General smiled, "Sit; you might even enjoy it."

"What are the films called?" Helo asked as the screen came to life.

"Oh you're in fore a real treat." There was a glint of amusement in O'Neill eye, "Tonight we have _The__ Life of Brian_ and _Monty Python and The Holy Grail_."

**To Be Continued...**


	27. War Drums

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 27: ****War Drums**

Time past quickly as work progressed on the _Pegasus_; most of the rail gun emplacements that had been set up to provide Atlantis with a last line of defence against Wraith attacks were dismantled and their weapons mounted on the Battlestar, replacing the original point-defence weapons. The two Asgard science vessels mathematically stripped off and recreated the Battlestar's thick outer armour belt, increasing its durability tenfold. Work on the ships computer systems took even longer: miles of caballing had to be laid to network the systems, forcing the work crews to cut holes throughout the ship to bypass bulkheads and other obstructions.

McKay, Carter and Zelenka spent every waking moment trying to find a way to reprogram the antiquated computers to interface with the more advanced equipment they brought up from Atlantis, leaving the Combat Information Centre look like a Radio Shack had exploded, but eventually they found a way to make it work. It was patched together and prone to cutting out, but it allowed them to tie all the offensive and defensive weapons into the central computer, cutting the number of people it took to man the ship by almost half. More patched systems allowed the hastily added shield generators to be regulated from CIC or main engineering, while internal communications had been upgraded with a fibre-optic network. Everything had to have a back-up and a back-up to the back-up, layering redundant systems on top of redundant systems.

Meanwhile, pilots from the _Galactica_ cross trained from their counterparts from the _Daedalus_ and the _Odyssey_ to get a better feel for the inertial dampeners, while the Cylons _Raiders_ learned flay in tighter formation with the human fighters. It took time, but they started to act as a single group, rather than three distinct sets of pilots who happened to be on the same side.

But in the end, they ran out of time.

**

* * *

**

"24 hours." O'Neill face was grim as he looked out over the control room, "That's how long before we launch."

"Just 24 hours?" Weir stood behind her desk, "It seems like only yesterday we were negotiating the peace treaty."

"Humans have a most unique view of time." Thor commented, "But I have to agree that we could have used more time; my people have promised to send more ships, but they will not reach us in time to take part in the battle. At best, they will provide Atlantis with an extra line of defence should we fail."

"Christ, I'm getting too old for this." O'Neill complained, "Well, the good news is that Roslin agreed to had over the second Zee-PM they found: McKay and Carter are fitting it to the _Odyssey_ right now."

"I won't ask what you had to give them in return." Weir smiled faintly, "I'm just glad that you won't have to take the one we've been using to power the city."

"Believe me, if we had the _Prometheus_ here as well, I'd take it in a heartbeat." The General admitted, "I just can't help but wish we had more time; half the new systems on the _Pegasus_ are untested under anything even approaching battlefield conditions. She takes too many hits, she could fall apart."

"Dr McKay has insisted that he stay on-board the _Pegasus_, just in case anything does happen." Weir looked more than a little uneasy at the prospect, "I've asked Ronon and Teyla to accompany him; I haven't said as much, but I want them to act as a buffer between Rodney and the Colonials."

"Has Dr McKay not recovered from his time as their prisoner?" Thor asked.

"No, and he probably won't." There was an odd look in O'Neill's eye as he replayed one of many unpleasant memories in his mind, "What happened to him, not some you just get over, no matter how much bravado you use."

**

* * *

**

"Surely you can't be serious?" Apollo looked across the room, "I'm CAG; I have to go."

"You are an officer in the Colonial Fleet." Adama sat behind his desk, his face set like stone, the soft lighting setting a deep shadow across half his face, "I need you to stay behind in command of the _Galactica_. You have the experience, and I need someone I can trust to keep an eye on things, should the worst come to the worst."

"I'm the best pilot we have, since..." Apollo stopped mid sentence, "Since Kara died."

His words hung heavy in the air, neither man choosing to speak while they took a moment to regain their composure.

"No matter what happens, I need to know that you will be here to keep our people together." Adama said after a while, "I understand why you want to be there; hell, if I was your age, I'd be out there in a _Viper_ myself. But there are times when you have to put the uniform ahead of what we want. I've let that slip, let a lot of things slip, but if we're going to rebuild now the war is over, then we need people like you. People who will stand up for their principles. What we don't need is a tired old war-hours who should have retired years ago..."

There was a knock on the hatch, startling both men. Adama nodded to Apollo, who crossed the room and spun the leaver to open the heavily reinforced door. A tall, black man in a lieutenant's uniform stood at parade-ground attention on the other side.

"Permission to enter, sir." He offered a crisp salute.

"Permission granted Mr Novacek." Adama stood as the former fighter pilot stepped past and marched with practised precision to the middle of the room.

"Lieutenant Daniel Novacek, reporting for duty, sir!" He came sharply to attention, snapping off another crisp salute.

"At ease, Bulldog." The Admiral walked around his desk, "Last I heard, you'd taken a job flying a supply shuttle off the _Astral Queen_."

"I'm a _Viper_-pilot, sir." Novacek kept his gaze dead-ahead, "And the scuttlebutt is that you're going to need all the pilots you can get."

"If only we could power a ship by gossip, we won't need Tylium." Apollo smiled at the old joke.

"Indeed." His father nodded in agreement, then turned to face the other man, "I have to admit, it's good to see you back in uniform; just like old times."

"Good times." Novacek nodded, "I'm still flight-rated on Mk VII _Vipers_; you can check my log-book if you want..."

"If you say you're flight-rated, then that's good enough for me." Adama offered his hand, "Welcome back, Bulldog."

* * *

A flash of blue light engulfed O'Neill, and Weir's office was replaced by bridge of the _Odyssey_. Carter stood from the commanders chair and smiled.

"Just keeping her warm for you, sir." She took a step to the side, "All ships report ready: the _Daedalus_ will make the jump to hyperspace first, then Thor will follow as the _Pegasus_ and the Cylon ships make their FTL jump to the rallying point. We'll leave the Resurrection and it's two guard-ships there, then make the final jump to the nebular the Wraith are expected to make their stop-off in. if all goes to plan, we should get there with enough time to get ourselves in position to launch a surprises attack the moment they drop out of hyperspace."

"Good, good." O'Neill sat and tapped the com-system, "Give me fleet-wide."

"You're on, sir." The young Lieutenant at the communications station reported.

"Your attention, please." O'Neill's voice echoed across every ship in the task force. Crew members stopped what they were doing to listen, many hoping against hope that there had been some new development that would mean that they didn't have to go into what some still felt was a hopeless battle.

"I'm not one for long speeches, so I'll try and keep this short and to the point." The General continued, "We all know what we're up against, but also what's at risk if we fail. Think about that, think about what the Wraith will do if they win, then when we go into battle, forget about it. Because when the fighting starts, you'll only have time to think about yourself and the solider next to you. Think about what the Wraith want to do to you, personally, then show them that none of us, Human, Cylon or Asgardian, will ever go down without a fight. Good luck."

**

* * *

**

Apollo stood in the _Galactica's_ CIC, his eyes fixed on the DRADIS console as the ships of the task force started to disappear.

"May the Lords of Kobol stand between them and harm in the dark places they must walk." Dee placed her hand over his and squeezed it gently, trying to reassure her husband. He returned the gesture, drawing strength from it.

* * *

Six stood on one of the many balconies overlooking the city, her eyes turned upwards: the night sky was filled with dancing lights, each one a ship in orbit. Bright flashes began to fill the heavens as the task force departed. She tried to understand the complex emotions running through her head; ever since her pregnancy had been confirmed, she had found it hard to keep an objective viewpoint. She wished that Baltar had been there with her, but he was too busy trying to prove his worth to the Tau'ri. She looked over to where Helo and Athena were standing, and felt a pang of jealousy at the closeness of their relationship.

"_We sleep peaceably in our beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence on our behalf._" Weir commended, "They fight so we don't have to, but being being left behind can be just as tough."

"So say we all." Six nodded, before turning and walking away.

**

* * *

**

President Roslin watched the ships depart from the observation bay behind the command deck of _Colonial One_, alone aside from the two members of her security detail that followed her almost everywhere. She reached out and touched the thick window, feeling the cold of space, despite the layers of insulation was supposed to keep it out.

"Madam President?" Zarek stood in the doorway, "You wanted to see me?"

"Come in." Roslin continued to look down at Lantea, "Have you gone over the files Earth sent us yet?"

"Not in depth, but yes, I have read them." Her vice-president nodded as he walked across the room to stand next two her, "Four of the worlds meet our needs, but we'll need to do some more detailed scans of our own before we decide which one we want to settle on permanently. I must confess, I was hoping that the Tau'ri would let us settle on Earth..."

"Earth isn't ready, not yet." The President shook her head, "They need time, time to prepare their people for how wonderful and terrible the universe is. Try and remember, they've fought an interplanetary war, in secret, and now face threats on two sides. Is it any wonder that they are a little timid of rushing into anything so immanence? No, for all their technological wonders, they are still a young culture, no more prepared to face life out here then we were, before the first Cylon war."

"Then we give them time." Zarek agreed, "Time and the space to grow; we'll be here, when they are ready."

**To Be Continued...**

_So, yeah, I took a little time off and wrote some other stuff, but I'm back now._


	28. Nor Shall My Sword Sleep In Hand

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 28: Nor Shall My Sword Sleep In Hand**

"I'm sorry if I'm disturbing you, ma'am." Commander Henderson stood in the door of Weir's office, "I've finished my final report, and thought that you might like to read it before I transmit it back to the SGC."

"Thank you, Liam." Weir looked up, "I'm afraid I don't have time to read it just now; can you give me the gist of it?"

"Captain Thrace's actions brake every law we have about the treatment of Prisoners of War." The JAG officer opened the file under his arm and flicked through the pages, "I won't go into the details, but I would hazard a guess that she had some major psychological issues that affected her judgement, but that's no excuse. I've spoken to Lt. Agathon, and she confirmed that it was President Roslin who personally gave the order, over Admiral Adama's objections. That clears him, but it does open another can of worms."

"Roslin has diplomatic immunity from prosecution." Weir nodded, then rubbed her forehead, "That's something the IOA is going to have to make a decision on and for once, I'm glad to pass the buck."

**

* * *

**

"How in the hell are we supposed to fight in this crap?" O'Neill gestured to the nebular outside the _Odysseys_ view-port, "We can't see more than a few hundred kilometres in any direction at the best of times."

"_It is, I believe the human expression is, a 'double-edged sword'_." Thor's looked down from a static filled screen, "_While the ionised gas and dust clouds hamper our sensors, what little we know of Wraith technology leads me to believe that they will be almost completely blinded while inside the nebular._" He cocked his head to the side, "_You did ask me to explore all possible advantages._"

"This isn't exactly what I had in mind." The General protested, then gave up with a sigh, "Are the remote sensor probes deployed?"

"_Indeed._" The Asgardian leader nodded, "_While it is true that the nebular has degraded their usefulness somewhat, they should be able to pick up any Wraith ship that arrives._"

* * *

The _Pegasus'_ CIC was a hive of activity, with crew members trying to make sense of the almost overwhelming flow of data coming in over the newly installed sensors. Despite the best efforts of the scientists and engineers that had worked so hard to get the ship operational, wires and cables still covered most surfaces, or hung across between the walls like bizarre Christmas decorations. Sitting in the middle of the organised chaos, like a spider in the middle of its web, sat Dr McKay, huddled over several laptops, a cup of steaming black coffee in one hand.

"Okay people, your attention, please." The scientist didn't even look up, "The Naquadah reactors we installed seem to holding steady, and while I am slightly surprised to say thing, all of the systems seem to be doing what they were designed to do." He tapped a few commands into one laptop, and the DRADIS console lit up, "And I've found a way to compensate for half of the interference from the nebular."

"Excellent word, Doctor." Adama smiled appreciatively as he looked up at the now much clear readout, "At least now we can see what we're shooting at."

"That said, we should test the targeting systems." Tigh suggested, "Make sure they work properly in all this mess out there."

"A good idea." McKay tapped more commands into the computer, "I'm deploying a couple of targeting drones. Do you want the rail-guns on automatic, or manual?"

"You can do that?" Adama asked as he stepped closer, only to find his way blocked by Ronon, "All from there?"

"Admiral, I have access to almost every system on this ship." McKay smirked, "Look, I can understand why you guys are a little technophobic, but the Cylons are on our side now, and we have maybe a third of the number of people this ship is supposed to be crewed by. We've had to automate damn near everything and shut down any system we can get away with using, and even then we're stretched damn thin."

**

* * *

**

"We're picking something up on the edge of sensor rage." Carter reported from her station on the bridge of the _Odyssey_, "I seen maybe thirty ships exiting hyper-space: four Hive-ships, twenty cruisers and what looks like support ships."

"**BATTLE STATIONS!**" O'Neill ordered, "Shields up! Arm weapons systems!"

"Shields at full power." The weapons officer reported, "All rail-guns armed and on-line, missile tubes one through six ready, but our targeting sensors are having a hard time archiving a secure lock through all the interference."

"Then we're just have to do this the old fashioned way." O'Neill thumbed open a encrypted link to the other ships, "Okay people, just like we practised: Thor takes the lead, while the _Odyssey_ and _Daedalus_ cover his flanks. All other ships, get your fighters in the air and then target those cruisers, but keep an eye open for anything that gets too close; the last thing we want is the Wraith boarding anyone."

* * *

The sleek prow of the _Samantha Carter_ cut though swirling clouds that made up the nebular, her passing creating eddies that momentarily enveloped her two human-built consorts as they struggled to match her acceleration. Behind the leading wedge came the _Pegasus_ and the Cylon Basestar's, spewing forth fighters to join those from the two Earth ships. Swarms of Cylon _Raiders_ formed up and activated their FTL drives, jumping the short distance between the two fleets. Their sudden and unexpected appearance stunned the Wraith, giving them a few seconds grace to fire their load of nuclear-tipped missiles before jumping back out again. Everything went white for a moment and it looked like the fires of hell had been unleashed as some of the more volatile elements in the nebular took the opportunity to react, sending sheets and streams of flame across the nebular. The fury of creation unleashed swept over the Wraith fleet, engulfing them.

Then the fires died away, and sensors cleared enough to get a better look.

**

* * *

**

"What?" McKay blinked in disbelief as he looked at the DRADIS console, "How the hell..."

"How in Zeus' name..." Tigh gasped as he looked at the same screen; the Wraith fleet was scorched but relatively undamaged; only a handful of the cruisers had been destroyed.

"They must have shields." McKay double-checked the data, "So much for Plan-A."

"Then we go with Plan-B." Adama sounded resolute, "Helm, plot me an intercept course for the Wraith Cruisers here." He marked an area on the plotting board. "Bring us in with our back to them; I want as many of our guns to have a clear shot at them as they can."

"I'll re-direct as much of the shield strength to there as I can." McKay got to work.

"We've also got enemy fighters inbound." Tigh warned, "Time to see just how good these new point-defence cannons are."

* * *

At the head of the charge, the _Samantha Carter_ met the oncoming wraith Darts head on, the small fighters hitting the Battlecruisers shields and exploding with no affect there than putting on an impressive light show. The Asgard warship didn't even fire on ineffectual attacks, but instead continued through the onslaught as though it was nothing at all. The _Daedalus_ and the _Odyssey_ were not so fortunate; even with the ZPM's powering their systems, their shields were not as powerful as those on their larger counterpart. Both ships were rocked by the near continual impacts against their shields and began to fire their rail-guns in an attempt to clear the way.

Further back, the _Pegasus_ and the Cylon contingent began to fire high-explosive flack rounds at the Darts that hadn't committed kamikaze charges against the other three warships, while the combined fighter force broke ranks and began to pick off the Wraith fighters at the fringes of the group. As agreed before the battle, the fighters worked in pairs, providing mutual protection. The nebular lit up with fire as tracer-rounds were traded with energy bolts.

Following on behind the Darts came the Cruisers, their sleek predatory designs a stark contrast to either Human or Cylon designs. They attempted to engage the leading ships of the task force, but their weapons were ineffectual against the heavy shields, and they soon found themselves being targeted by the _Pegasus_ and the Basestar's. The power main gun on the Battlestar fired a steady stream of naquadah-enhanced rounds. These impacted against the shields some of the Wraith Cruisers had been equipped with, and the fire-control systems on the _Pegasus_ quickly made those ships priority targets. The rate of fire increased as the _Samantha Carter_, the _Daedalus_ and the _Odyssey_ approached the waiting Hive Ships, who, having launched all of their Darts and without their escorting Cruisers, manoeuvred to bring their own weapons to bare on the other three warships.

Thor fired first, his ships pulsed-energy weapon firing at almost full power. Against such an attack, even the shields the Wraith had developed were of almost no use, and the beam passed through and impacted against the hull. Millennia of warfare without the advantage of shields meant that the colossal vessel was heavily armoured, designed to withstand attacks by Ancient Battleships like the _Aurora._ This offered it some protection, limiting the damage the Asgard weapon did, but it still blasted one of the two spurs that made up the ships prow clean off, sending it tumbling off through the nebular until it exploded.

With the Asgard ship already engaged in compact against one of their number, the other three Hives opened fire with their broadsides, hitting the Battlecruisers shields again and again, forcing its crew to redirect power from weapons to stop the attacks getting through. The _Daedalus_ and _Odyssey_ broke off and moved around to try and encircle the Hives, firing their rail-guns and missiles launchers as fast as they could in a desperate attempt to take the heat off the far larger and more powerful _O'Neill_ class Battlecruiser.

**

* * *

**

A console exploded to the rear of the CIC, sending out a shower of sparks that threatened to set light to some of the exposed cabling. Ronon reacted quickly, grabbing a nearby fire extinguisher and dowsing the flames before they could spread.

"Shields holding at sixty-five percent." McKay reported, working as fast as he could to stay on top of the temperamental upgrades, "Unfortunately, there seem to be a few holes forming, and every time the Wraith find one, they fire everything they have at it."

"Where the fracking hell are the Cylons?" Tigh snapped, "They're supposed to be on our side!"

"They've got problems of their own." Adama pointed at the DRADIS, "At least half a dozen Cruisers are trying to get in close enough to board them."

"We can't just sit here and take this sort of punishment for much longer." The XO warned, "There's only so much we can take; this old girl was never built to withstand this kind of punishment!"

"You think I don't know that?" The Admiral asked, then looked at the main plot, "Take us in between those two cruisers there!"

"That's suicide!" McKay protested, "Even with the shields, we won't last long."

"Long enough to shove a couple of nukes up their tail-pipes." Adama smiled, "Prepare to fire missile tubes one-through-four the moment we have a clear shot."

"Taking us in now." Gaeta reported, "Any second now..."

**

* * *

**

The _Pegasus_ rotated along its long-axis as it passed between the two Wraith Cruisers, their energy weapons pounding against her already over taxed shields, making them glow brightly. Behind them, one of the Cylon Basestar's exploded as its defences finally fell to the relentless bombardment. The once proud ship flew apart as the central reactor lost containment, one of the spires that made up its star-shaped hull piercing the hull of a Wraith cruiser before detonating as the highly explosive flue its _Raiders_ used went up.

Pounded on both sides by Wraith weapons fire, the _Pegasus_ pushed forward, the heavy rail-guns along its back and keel firing at what amounted to point blank range. Under such bombardment, the ships shields gave out moments before four nuclear-tipped anti-ship missiles erupted from their launch silos near the bow of the Battlestar and crossed the distance between the two ships. Two were intercepted by Darts, and a third was picked off by point-defence weapons fire. The forth detonated on contact, the resulting explosion shattering the Cruisers hull. Fire spread throughout the ship and burst forth from every view port and airlock as the ship broke apart, a dyeing wreck.

Powerful manoeuvring thrusters fired, speeding up the Battlestar's rotation, allowing it to fire another volley of missiles, but these all missed, and then the _Pegasus_ was too far forward for the missiles to archive a targeting-lock. Fighters from both sides swarmed around the wreckage, weaving in and out of the dust and gas of the nebular as they continued to hunt one another.

The Hive ship that had first been targeted by the _Samantha Carter_ exploded in an immanence fireball just moments before the shields on the _Daedalus_ gave out Deprived of its primary means of defence, the Earth ship attempted to gain room to manoeuvre, it was instantly targeted by one of the remaining Hives. A hell-storm of fire enveloped the ship from stem-to-stern, blasting through its relatively unprotected hull. Never designed to withstand such an attack, the stricken _Daedalus_ lost main power as its reactor went into emergency shut down.

But even this wasn't enough to save it: a final volley from the Hive blasted the ship apart

**To Be Continued...**

_I was going to post this yesterday, but the site maintenance/upgrade got in the way._

_In the words of God's last message to creation:  
__We apologise for the inconvenience..._


	29. Into The Jaws Of Death

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 29: Into The Jaws Of Death**

"Oh crap!" O'Neill looked at the still expanding ball of plasma that had been the _Daedalus_, "Tell me you managed to get them out?"

"Most, but not all." Carter reported, "I transported most of them to the mess hall, others to the infirmary." She tapped the controls, "Thor managed to get the Zee-PM out in time: it's with Hermiod on his ship."

"I owe the little guy one for that." The General let out the breath he'd been holding, then looked back at the main radar screen, "But we can't keep trading ship for ship like that." he leaned forward in his seat, trying to get a better look at the main tactical display, "Okay Walter, time to earn your pay: I want you to take us in on a strafing-run along the back of that far Hive-ship."

"Sir?" The NCO sitting at the helm station blinked, then turned his head to the side, "Are you sure that's wise?"

"Her shields are almost down, but she's using the other two for cover so Thor can't get a decent shot at her." O'Neill stood and took a couple of steps forward, placing a reassuring hand on the other man's shoulder, "If we can overload her shields and take her out of the fight, Thor can deal with the the other two."

"Sir, that still means practically flying into the guns of a Hive-ship." Carter protested, "Even with a Zee-PM powering our shields, we won't last long."

"Well last long enough." O'Neill gave her a wink, "_Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell. Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell, Rode the six hundred._"

"With all due respect, sir, this isn't that Battle of Balaclava, and you're not Lord Cardigan." Caldwell commented as he made his way thought the hatch, "But I have to agree; taking out that Hive ship is worth the risk." He nodded to Carter, "Thanks for the save, by the way."

"Happy the help." She nodded, "Just be glad that they're not going to take the cost of replacing her out of your pay-cheque."

"Fight now, joke later." O'Neill insisted, "Okay Walter, take us in."

**

* * *

**

All but unseen amid the carnage around them, a pair of Cylon _Heavy Raiders_ dived in on a damaged Wraith Cruiser that was attempting to pull away from the battle. Accelerating at a rate that would have killed any human, the two assault ships rammed the war larger vessel, their thickly armoured prows slicing through the semi-organic material the Wraith built their ships from. Reacting almost like a wounded animal, the Cruiser pumped a fast-setting sealant into the effected areas, creating an air-tight seal around the two _Heavy Raiders_.

A squad of hunters were dispatched to investigate, and arrived just in time to see the thickly armoured front hatches blast away from the hulls on explosive bolts. One Wraith failed to find cover in time, and was crushed by two tons of near solid armour. His comrades readied their weapon, prepared to repel any attacking humans and drain their life essence. The squad leader sniffed the air; he couldn't detect any humans, but something was definitely moving on the other side of the dark hatchway.

The faintest red flicker lit the darkness, moving slowly from side to side, emitting a low throbbing pulse as it went. A second light appeared in the darkness, followed closely by a third and a forth. There was the unmistakable sound of metal thumping against metal as a slender figure, tall as a Wraith but made out of some strange metal stepped out into the passage way. Its angular head rotated to the side and it seemed to be processing the presence of the Wraith, unsure how to respond.

Letting lose an almost ultrasonic war-cry, the lead Wraith raised his stunner and fired at the stranger, hitting it high on its shoulder. The force of impact twisted the Cylon back and round slightly, and left a slight smear on the otherwise pristine armour plating. It tilted its head to look at the mark, then looked directly at the Wraith, its single red eye stopping mid sweep. It raised one long, slender arm, its hand doubling back to allow the built-in armament to extend forward. The Wraith only had a moment to look surprised before it opened fire, cutting them down. One managed to get out a warning to the bridge before it was effectively cut in half.

The Centurion stepped forward, clearing the way for the rest of the strike-team, as the hatch leading to the other _Heavy Raider_ also opened, its own complement of Centurions disembarking. Wireless communications flicked back and forth between the two squad leaders, and their respective command headed off in opposite directions; one towards the bridge, the other main engineering.

* * *

"**FRACK!**" Tigh cursed as a console he was standing next to exploded, showering him with sparks, "What the hell happened to our shields?"

"This shouldn't be happening." McKay looked at his screens in disbelief, "It's almost like someone gut the power conduits linking the generators to the emitters."

"Wraith." Teyla's voice was low and hushed, "They are here, on the ship."

"Oh crap." McKay's heart sank, "That's not good."

"How can you be so sure?" Adama asked, "There could be a dozen reasons for the shields to loose power..."

"If Teyla says there are Wraith on-board, then you'd better believe her." The Scientist shook his head, "It's too complicated to get into, but trust me; she's a living Wraith-detector."

"Finally, something I can do." Ronon drew his gun and looked at Adama, "How many Marines do you have?"

"Twenty." The Admiral replied, "But they're spread out all over the ship."

"Yes, but there are only so many places the Wraith can be." McKay pulled up a full schematic of the Battlestar, "As we only have a fraction of a ship this sizes normal crew, I shut down the areas were wouldn't need; galley, repair shops, brig, stuff like that, and de-pressurised them to make the ship lighter."

"Then we know where they won't be." Ronon smiled slightly, "I'll take care of it."

"I'll go with you." Teyla hefted her P90 and pulled back he slide, chambering a round, "You need someone to watch your back."

"Agreed." Her team-mate nodded, "Let's go."

Adama watched them calmly walk out of the CIC to face the Wraith.

"Are they going to be okay?" He asked McKay.

"Ronon and Teyla?" The physicist thought on it for a moment, "Lets just say, I wouldn't bet against them."

"That's more than I can say for us." Tigh spat though gritted teeth, "I guess we're going to see just how well built this ship really is."

**

* * *

**

Main engines glowing with the intensity of trapped suns, the _Odyssey_ dived upon the damaged Hive Ships, rail-guns spitting death and destruction. The larger ships shields flared brightly under the onslaught, and it returned fire with its own not inconsiderable fire-power to bare on the human-ship. While classed as a Battlecruiser, the _Odyssey_ and her sisters ships had been built to fight the Goa'uld, not the Wraith: while she was the most potent weapons platform ever built on Earth, she was no match in single combat against a more advanced ship ten times her size. Indeed, if not for the zero-point module super-charging her shields, it would have been suicide for the _Odyssey_ to even attempt what she was trying.

Weapons of almost unimaginable power fired upon the squat Earth ship, making her Asgard built shields glow golden as they fought to protect the ships fragile human crew. Under normal circumstances, they would have buckled and collapsed under such a sustained bombardment, the Earth-built naquadah reactors woefully inadequate. But with the ZPM in-place, the _Odyssey_ took the punishment, and paid it back in spades.

Slithers of naquadah, accelerated to near light-speed by the ships rail-guns, ripped into the Hive ships already damaged shields, overloading them. With its defences down, the Wraith dreadnought had nothing to protect it but its armoured outer hull.

* * *

"Her shields are down!" Caldwell reported from the sensor station, "She's wide open."

"Excellent." O'Neill leaned forward in his seat as the _Odyssey_ turned round to make a second pass, "If you'd like to do the honours, Colonel?"

"With pleasure, sir." Caldwell crossed the short distance to the weapons console in just two strides and quickly tied all the ships weapons into a single control. His eyes narrowed as his finger hovered over the controls "This is for the _Daedalus_..."

**

* * *

**

Explosions ripped through the Hive ship as the _Odysseys_ weapons went into maximum fire rate, the barrels of the rail-guns glowing white hot as the remaining missiles leapt from the launchers. Multi-megaton death ripped through the larger ships hull as the Battlecruiser made its second pass along the already battered flank of the Wraith mouther-ship. Armour and internal supports buckled and gave way, atmosphere venting in huge sheets of flame. A titanic explosion erupted in the Hives engineering section and spread slowly forward, enveloping more and more of the ship in a series of blasts.

Riding the head of the destruction, the _Odyssey_ stopped firing, saving her remaining ammunition as its opponent literally ripped itself apart. Engines pushed far beyond their designed parameters, the Earth ship tried to outrun the maelstrom, but it was engulfed in a boiling mass of fire and plasma, her shields turning almost totally opaque as they started to burn out.

* * *

The muffled sound of gunfire could be heard in the _Pegasus_' CIC, the officers and crew looking around nervelessly, many instructively reaching for their holstered side-arms. Adama looked at Tigh, who nodded in silent agreement. Both men started to enter their authorisation codes into the main console, activating the Battlestar's self-destruct. Explosive charges set around the ships main reactors, fuel reserves and magazines armed themselves, ready to turn the entire ship into one big bomb with the flick of a switch. Adama stood with his hand over the protective cover designed to stop the system from being activated by accident, even after it had been armed.

The gunfire could be heard right outside the armoured hatch, along with the lower pulse of Wraith stunner's. There was a moment of silence, then all hell broke loose as the hatch exploded inwards, smashing the DRADIS console. Adama was knocked of his feet by the blast, his head hitting the main plotting table with enough force to momentarily stun him. Tigh dived for the self-destruct control, but a blast from a Wraith stunner hit him in the chest, and his world went dark.

**To Be Continued...**

_Would like to point out a few things to the utter nitwit that posted the almost illegible rant as a 'review' to the last chapter (don't bother looking for it; I delete it as soon as I managed to stop laughing long enough to log-in), so here goes:_

_**1)** I'm English, not American. Try and get at least some of your facts right before you start to rant._

_**2)** I opposed the war in Iraq, but mainly because I saw no connection between the former regime and the 9/11 attacks. That said, the world is without a doubt a better place without Saddam in it._

_**3)** I've never served in any branch of any military. I do have family serving, but not in Iraq or Afghanistan (at least at this time)._

_**4)** The Stargate universe is fictional, so threatening the characters won't work, and just proves beyond a doubt how utterly stupid you are._

_**5)** I doubt that anything you ever write will reach twelve chapters, as it would get flamed to death then deleted for breach of the rules, so have a nice life and keep taking those pills the nice doctors gave you; they'll make the voices in your head go away._


	30. Fire In The Heavens

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 30: ****Fire In The Heavens**

The _Odyssey_ emerged from the cloud of flaming wreckage that had so recently been a Wraith Hive-ship, her hull burnt and dented, engines dead. Lights flicked on and off along her length as she tumbled end over end. Sensing an easy kill, a Wraith Cruiser broke off contact with the besieged _Pegasus_ and the three remaining Cylon Basestar's and moved in like a shark hunting a injured whale. Is response, a large number of Cylon _Raiders_ broke off from their fight and came to the stricken _Odyssey's_ aid, firing their last few missiles at the Wraith warship.

Explosions bloomed along the Cruisers flanks as it attempted to find room to manoeuvre against the new threat. Not to be put off by the increasing resistance, many of the Raiders, their ammunition depleted, accelerated to their top speed and dived at the slender Cruiser. The first two were picked off by the larger ships point-defences, but the third managed to dodge between the wall of flack and zeroed in on what its sensors told it was the Cruisers command deck.

Moving at a reasonable percentage of local light speed, the _Raider_ hit with the force of a small atomic bomb, its speed instantly transforming into deadly force as it sent a ball of flame and wreckage through half the Cruisers superstructure. Secondary explosions ripped through what remained of the Wraith ship apart, leaving it a broken, burning hulk.

The remaining _Raiders_ took up covering position around the _Odyssey_, protecting it from any further attacks.

**

* * *

**

The sound the emerged from McKay's mouth was fuelled by rage and hatred as he he drew his side-arm and pointed one-handed at the first Wraith to force its way into the _Pegasus'_ CIC. His finger pulled the trigger as he continued to scream like a banshee, not stopping until the Wraith fell. A seconded stepped over the firsts corps, and McKay switched his aim and fired the last two rounds until the hammer fell on an empty chamber. His other hand reacted for the spare magazine in his belt even as he hit the release to eject the first. Moving like a man in a dream, he reloaded his gun and started firing again, downing the second Wraith as it made its way across the room towards Adama's prone form.

Gaeta was the first of the ships crew to regain his composure, and managed to draw his own pistol in time to gun down the third Wraith. His action seemed to snap the rest of the crew out of their dazed state, and many of them drew their own weapons and started to fire at the Wraith that appeared in the doorway in a seemingly unending flow of cannon fodder.

McKay stood amid the carnage, still looking down the sights of his again empty gun, his throat too sore to make any sound as the flow of fresh Wraith was finally broken.

**

* * *

**

The Wraith ship-master stood ready with the rest of his senior officers, weapons drawn and pointed at the barricaded entrance to the Cruises bridge. In the passageway the other side of the sealed hatch, they could hear their hive-mates dyeing and the slow, steady march of metallic feet on the cartilage like deck of their ships. They had all heard the reports, how their weapons were ineffective against their new enemy, how they would advance through the thickest fire, only the most desperate of measures even slowing them.

The Ship-master had attempted to activate the Cruisers self-destruct system, but had lost contact with the engine room before it could be implicated. They all knew that their deaths were immanent, but were ready to sell themselves as dearly as they could. They all looked to their ship-master as the sound of fighting died, leaving only the rasping sound of Wraith breathing. Something heavy impacted against the other side of the main hatch, leaving a deep dent in the surface. More resounding impacts followed, the dents growing in size.

Then something seemed to claw at the hatch, leaving three long cashes across its entire width. More and more slashes appeared, as if some ravenous beast was trying to get through. Panic started to spread through the Wraith; they had already resigned themselves to death, but they had assumed that it would be a quick death. Now they feared for just what was fighting to get to them. Finally, with the door in tatters, it gave way, falling into a pile of rubble on the deck. Darkness seemed to flow in from the corridor, but that was soon broken by a piercing red light that started to slowly move back and forth.

Slowly, almost cautiously, the lead Centurion stepped into the command deck, its bullet-shaped head scanning from side to side as it quickly took everything in and evaluated the situation. Its hands shifted, the built-in weaponry retracting back into the its forearms as it stepped to the side, allowing one of its companions to follow. They stood on either side of the hatch, standing guard as a third Centurion entered and stopped dead, its red-eye changing to blue as it emitted a holographic image that morphed into a life-size rendition of Brother Cavil.

"_I bring you greetings on behalf of the Cylon Alliance._" The Cylon leader bowed his head slightly, "_By now you're no doubt aware that we have taken over near complete control of this ship, and I thought I'd take a moment to thank you: without the threat you represent, we may never have made peace with the Thirteenth Tribe._" He smiled slightly, as if he was the only one who understood some cosmic joke, "_You know, I've never been one to believe in God, but I guess this is divine intervention. Goodbye._"

The hologram faded and the Centurions eye returned to normal. It looked at its two companions as it seemingly flexed its arms, stretching its long, razor-sharp fingers. The Wraith ship-master pointed his weapon at the Cylon and fired, the bolt of energy striking it just above its eye, burning a small gash in the otherwise pristine armour. The Centurion reacted by flexing its legs and leaping through the air, bypassing the two thin ranks of Wraith and landing just in front of the ship-master, its long talons slicing him across the chest. This signalled the other two Cylons, and they like was attacked, using their hands to avoid damaging any important controls.

It was a short, brutal fight, and ended with the complete extermination of the Wraith command crew.

* * *

"Admiral?" Gaeta knelt down over Adama, "Can you hear me, sir?"

"What...what happened?" The ships action CO asked, "The Wraith?"

"Dealt with." The operations officer assured him, "Commander Thor is dealing with the last two Hive-Ships, while it seems that the Cylons managed to board and capture the only surviving Wraith Cruiser."

"That's good." Adama managed to pull himself up into a sitting position, "Our fighters?"

"We lost maybe a third." Gaeta reported, his eyes downcast, "We've begin S&R operations, but the _Odyssey_ is badly damaged, and can't take on her own fighters, meaning with the _Daedalus_ gone, we have to take on all of the Tau'ri fighters, as well as our own..."

"That's the least of our problems." McKay reported from the DRADIS console, "We've just picked up two large objects dropping out of Hyperspace just outside of the nebula and closing fast. By the look of them, I'd have to say that they're another two Hives with fresh support ships."

"Lords of Kobol protect us." Tigh moaned as he tried to pull himself up off the deck. He stopped at looked at his old friend and smiled faintly, "It's been a pleasure serving with you, Bill."

"The pleasure was all mine Saul," Adama nodded, "all mine."

**

* * *

**

Thor sat in his command chair, a strange sence of peace coming over his tired body as the _Samantha Carter_ finally dealt with the last of its original opponents; he had lived much longer that he had ever thought possible, and maybe death in battle was preferable to the slow decay that was threatening his entire race with extinction. One last glorious charge into the fire, burning out rather than fading away. He knew his crew felt the same; despite his peoples peaceful nature, they were still warriors, and had long ago accepted the possibility of death in battle. Now they would have a chance to live up to the examples set by their forefathers, who had gone to war without the safety of a backup copy of their mind ready to be downloaded into a new body.

Reverent voices echoed throughout the ship as one by one the entire crew began to sing one of their people traditional battle-hymn, preparing themselves for entry to Valhalla.

* * *

The Wraith advanced with the inevitability and menace of an avalanche, the fresh hives came in in close formation, their Cruisers and Darts providing an advanced screen. What remained of the coalition Task Force tried to form up on the Asgard Battlecruiser, but with almost off of their capital ships destroyed or disabled, they knew that they stood little chance. All they could do was sell themselves dearly in a bid to buy time for the Asgard forces on-rout to Atlantis to arrive and mount a proper defence of the city and the ships in orbit. Cylon fighters formed up on the wings of their Colonial counterparts, a sight no one would ever have expected to see after two wars. A hand-full of Earth fighters lay scattered about the line of battle. What few weapons systems remained locked onto the Wraith ships and waited for them to enter effective range, ready to unleash one last volley of death and destruction.

No one noticed the light at first; it appeared in the middle of the Wraith formation, just a pinprick at first, but it started to expand exponentially. The first Wraith to notice it assumed it was some unknown human weapon, and attempted to fire at it. The hailstorm of energy unleashed had no effect as the sphere expanded faster and faster. It touched one Wraith ship, then another, each exploding as soon as they made contact with the glowing ball. The entire Wraith fleet fell into disarray as the sphere consumed more and more of their number, vaporising an entire Hive Ship in the blink of an eye. With no way to escape, the Task Force watched as the energy approached them, washing over their ships with no effect what so ever. The last Wraith ships tried to run, but were unable to escape the anomaly as it spread out across the nebula.

When it finally faded out of sight, the only Wraith ship left was the Cruiser under Cylon control.

**

* * *

**

"Dear Gods." Adama watched the Wraith ships blink out off of the DRADIS screens, the rest of the CIC strangely quiet, "What was that?"

"Nothing." McKay looked at his computer in confusion, "According to our sensors, the Wraith just exploded."

"Nothing _'just explodes'_, not like that." Tigh objected, "Someone must have fired at them."

"Well I sure as hell wasn't us." McKay snapped back, "We have exactly zero working offensive armaments, and nothing any of our ships carry is capable of that sort of destruction."

"Then what is?" Adama asked.

* * *

"I've seen that before." O'Neill stood and walked forward until he was standing just in front of the thickly armoured view port at the front of the _Odysseys_ command deck, "Where?"

"I've seen it, but not in person." Caldwell looked and sounded awe-struck, "One of Colonel Sheppard's mission reports included footage from his Jumper: it showed an Ancient destroying a Hive-ship."

"Danny!" O'Neill snapped his fingers, "When Danny tried to stop Anubis from getting hold of the Eye of Ra!"

"An Ancient did that?" Carter asked, "Why? They've always refused to interfere; it's the one rule they never brake."

"Almost, but no never." O'Neill shook his head, his sudden reprieve from impending death making him feel almost light-headed, "Oma does it all the time, and that Ganos lady did when she helped as back at Atlantis. And don't even get me started on Merlin..."

"But why here?" Caldwell asked, "Why now?"

"I don't know." The General shook his head, "But I intend to find out."

**To Be Continued...**

_Dear Samuel3: I refuse to have a battle of wits with someone who is so obviously unarmed. I fear that the only hope for you is a quick and painless death to put you out of **our** misery._

_To everyone else, you have my thanks for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy the story. __I would also like to reassure those of you without account that I will no be disabling anonymous reviews, despite Sammy refusing to sign in to post another incoherent rant about the war in Iraq that he calls his 'reviews' (not that that would do him any good, as I've blocked him). __I fail to see why the rest of you should suffer because of something I can delete when I stop laughing at it._


	31. The Man Behind The Curtain

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 31: ****The Man Behind The Curtain**

Atlantis' control room was quiet, almost sombre, as the senior staff stood around the main display, watching the feed from one of the ships in orbit. They could clearly see the relief force the Asgard had sent, as well as a number of Cylon ships that had been late arriving due to their deployment far from the main fleet. Most where older, less advanced ships, but there were also a handful of advanced scouts and support ships.

The _Samantha Carter_ was the first to arrive, towing the _Odyssey_ and the _Pegasus_. All three showed signs of heavy damage, from blackened armour to decks rent open to space. The remaining Cylon Basestar's followed, flocking around the undamaged and irreplaceable Resurrection ship and the captured Wraith Cruiser. All eyes searched for the _Daedalus, _only to find it nowhere to be seen.

"We're getting some messages." Major Lorne pressed his finger to his ear-piece as he tried to filter out a lot of the interference, "General O'Neill reports that the _Daedalus_ was lost in battle, but they managed to save most of the crew. They're going to try and repair the _Odyssey_ in orbit, at least enough for her to be able to land safely. And the Cylons are requesting any information with have on Wraith technology."

"Send the Cylons everything we have on Wraith ships." Weir ordered, "And tell Zelenka to get his people together: they're going to be needed on the _Odyssey_. We'll have to ask the Colonials for help with the _Pegasus_."

"They should be willing to help." Lorne nodded towards the screen, "After what the General gave them."

**

* * *

**

Adama felt a slight tingling as the transporter-beam enveloped him, lifting him from the _Pegasus_' CIC to a strange room, the likes of which he had never seen before. The walls seemed to be made out of gold, and were covered in glyphs, strange yet familiar at the same time. A large, overly ornate chair took up much of the room, while two control stations where set just in-fount of a large view port that cave a panoramic view of space.

"I hope you like it." O'Neill stood leaning against the chair, along with another man, who was dressed in a black sleeveless top and a matching pair of black combat pants. O'Neill gestured towards the man, "I'd like to introduce me good friend Teal'c of the Jaffa High Council. T, this is Admiral William Adama of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol."

"I bring greetings on behalf of all free Jaffa." Teal'c bowed slightly, "O'Neill has told me much about you."

"And I thank you on behalf of the Colonial government." Adama bowed back, "Forgive me, but you look human..."

"It's a long story, for another time." O'Neill waved his arm around to take in the room, "Well, here she is, as promised: one starship." He winced, "Although I have no idea how I'm going to explain this back home, Zee-PM's or no Zee-PM's; this was supposed to be the first _Ha'Tak_ in our fleet, and we've been converting a lot of systems to something a little more, well, understandable."

"What sort of weapons does it have?" The Admiral asked as he started to walk around the room.

"An _Ha'Tak_ carries a number of plasma-cannons for both ship-to-ship and anti-fighter combat." Teal'c explained, "It is also equipped with defensive energy shields."

"Not, before you ask, as powerful as those on the _Odyssey_." O'Neill was quick to point out, "They're more comparable to those on the Wraith ships we faced, but still an unmistakable improvement on solid armour."

"Right now we need somewhere we can house the people in Dogsville." Adama explained, "Then we have to decide which planet we're going to settle on; it'll be years before we're ready to take any ship into combat."

"We'll keep an eye on you until then." O'Neill nodded, "Now if you don't mind, I have find some answers."

* * *

A transport beam deposited McKay, Teyla and Ronon in the middle Stargate Operations. Weir made her way down the main staircase from the upper level to greet them.

"Elizabeth." McKay yawned, "Sorry; I've spent the last 48-hours either in combat or trying to fix the damage the Wraith did."

"We are all very tired." Teyla agreed.

"Then don't let me stop you: I'll see you all later" Weir nodded, and the exhausted team filed past her as a second flash of light heralded O'Neill's arrival, "General?"

"Doctor." O'Neill walked over to her, "You said in one of your reports that you know where we can find an Ancient."

"Chaya?" Weir asked, "Yes, she lives on a planet called Proculus."

"I want to talk to her." The General explained, "We were about to get our asses kicked by a pair of Hives when an Ancient stepped in and pulled a _Deus Ex Machina_. Now I'm not complaining; they saved all of us, but I would like to know just what the hell is going on!"

"You're not the only one." President Roslin appared at the top of the steps, acompanied by Apollo, "If there is a whay for me to talk to one of these '_Ancients_' as you know them, then I want to go to."

"Then it's agreed; we all go." O'Neill turned and started to walk towards the Jumper-bay, "But I drive."

_**

* * *

**_

"I've completed the DNA test you wanted, and run it through your database." Becket handed a printout to Cottle, "There was a match."

"Really?" The _Galactica's_ CMO looked at the test results, "Oh boy..."

"That was pretty much my response." Becket agreed, "We have to tell him."

"What? That he has a daughter by the woman he abandoned?" Cottle asked, "Sure, that's going to be fun."

"Maybe if we brought it up with the Admiral first?" Becket suggested, "He might know how best to approach the Major."

"Trust me; I've known Bill Adama a long time." Cottle pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, "He is not going to be happy about this."

**

* * *

**

Apollo was surprised at how smooth the slight was; while the Puddle Jumper looked slow and unwieldy, General O'Neill handled it with consummate ease. The journey through the Stargate had been a little unnerving at first, but it had been as painless as he had been assured. Still, going from the middle of a city to orbit of a distant planet in the blink of an eye had been unusual to say the least, but he saw why it would be considered a more convenient way to travel than slow, lumbering starships.

A Stargate network would certainly have made life easier back on the Twelve Colonises.

The Jumper passed through the upper atmosphere and the bright green landscape came into view below as O'Neill headed towards the only settlement on the planet; a small village on the shore of a lake. The transport landed in a clearing, and they were surprised to see a man waiting for them.

"Greetings, I am Zarah." The man introduced himself, "We were told to expect you." He motioned towards a path leading through the trees, "If you will follow me."

"Well, you wanted to talk to Chaya." Weir looked at O'Neill, "Looks like she wants to talk to us."

**

* * *

**

"I was told you wanted to see me?" Adama walked into the _Galactica's_ infirmary, "I hope it's important; I was rather busy."

"Oh, I think it's important." Cottle looked around at the other medical staff, "Can you give us the room, please?"

The medics looked a little confused, but okayed the order and filed out the hatch, the last closing and securing it.

"You're going to want to sit." Cottle gestured to an empty chair, which Adama accepted, "How much do you know about your sons life back on Caprica, before he came out for the decommissioning ceremony?"

"Not a lot." The Admiral admitted, "We weren't on the best of terms."

"Do you know about his relationship with a woman called Gianne Franklin?"

"I know that they involved, that he had been planing to propose to her, before they had an argument. Lee never said what it was about, but it must have been something big, because she walked out on him."

"One of the people the Cylons handed over as part of the peace agreement is Elijah Franklin, Gianne's father. And he's not alone; he has is granddaughter with him."

"You mean..."

"His daughter died in child birth after the Cylon attack, but before she died she told Mr Franklin that the child's father was a Captain in the Fleet Reserves, and that his name was Lee. I asked Doctor Becket to run a DNA test to see if we could find a match, if she had family. He ran the test, their equipment's better and faster than ours, and then he ran it through our database. There's no doubt; your son is her father."

* * *

The path led some way from the village, up into the low hills beyond. Roslin was glad she'd chose flat-soled shoes, but the bright sun beat down mercilessly. Still they continued, until Zarah stopped beside a gate set in a low wall.

"This is as far as I go." He stood aside, "You may go in, and I will be here when you decide to leave."

"Thank you." Weir nodded, "But I have a feeling that this may take some time."

The garden beyond the wall was well maintained, the exotic sent of flowers and herbs drifting on the gentle breeze. Strange, multi-coloured fish swam in an ornamental pond, scattering as the party crossed the bridge and up the path leading to the low but attractive house. A slender woman with shoulder-length chestnut hair stood on the patio next to a table.

"Doctor Weir." She nodded as the four visitors reached her, "I was told to expect you."

"Then you know why we're here." The Expedition leader gestured to the others, "Allow me to introduce Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol, Major Lee Adama of the Colonial Fleet, and General Jack O'Neill, head of the Stargate Program on Earth."

"General, your reputation precedes you; I doubt that any other human is held in such high regard, yet also such disdain, by my people." Chaya smiled, "It is both a pleasure and an honour to meet you."

"Thanks." O'Neill blinked, "I think..." He looked at Weir in confusion, "Was that a compliment?"

"And President Roslin, you too are known to my people." Chaya turned to face the Colonial leader, "I have followed your progress for some time, but I am afraid that the others would not have allowed me to interfere."

"That's why we're here; one of your people did interfere." Weir took a step forward, "They saved a lot of our people from the Wraith, probably ultimately saved Atlantis as well."

"I assure you that none of my people were involved." Chaya shook her head, "They would never interfere in the affairs of non-ascended cultures like that."

"Was it the Ori?" O'Neill asked, somewhat hesitantly, "Trying to gain a few converts through a show of force?"

"The others would never allow such an act, and the Ori know this." The Ancient shook her head, "That is why they are limited to acting through others to archive their ends; a direct conflict between my people and the Ori would be disastrous, for both sides."

"Then what happened?" Weir asked, "If you know we were coming and why, then you must know what happened?"

"I could explain," Chaya thought for a moment, then shook her head "but it is not my story to tell."

"Then who's story **is** it?" O'Neill snapped, growing impatient with all the cryptic language.

"I am glad to say that rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated ." A voice came from the other side of a curtain, just before it was pulled aside and a man dressed in the same simple cloth tunic as the planets other inhabitants stepped into view, "Surprised to see me?"

"Oh my God!" Weir stumbled back a step, her legs almost giving way through shock, "John?"

**To Be Continued...**

_Well, that should answer a few often-asked questions._

_As to how much longer this story is likely to last, I don't see it getting past 35-chapters at most, call it a little over 70,000 words. There is, after all, only so much I can do before the storyline becomes hard to follow, and I want to leave **something** good for the sequel._


	32. Reunions & Revelations

_Song lyrics by Bob Dylan_

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 32: ****Reunions & Revelations**

Dee hesitated outside the hatch for a moment, then knocked only once. Despite being married to the Admirals son, in manyt ways she was still the young Petty Officer 2nd Class from Sagittaron she had been when she first transfred to the _Galactica_.

"Entre." Adama's voice carried through the reenforced metal, and Dee felt herself compelled to obay on an entirely instinctual level. The room was dark, the few lights casting deep shadows. One half-hid Cottle, who sat puffing on a cigarette in one corner. The Admiral looked up at Dee over the rim of his glasses and motioned towards an empty chair, "Anastasia, please, be seated."

"Sir." Dee hesitated for a second; almost no one used her full dame, but she relented and sat opposite the desk from the Admiral.

"Dee..." The Admiral hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right words, "How much do you know about Lee's relationship with a woman named Gianne Franklin?"

"I know that they were involved, very close, until just before the Cylon attack." Dee admitted, felling more than a little confused, "Lee doesn't like talking about her."

"Did he ever tell you what they argued about?" Cottle asked, blowing a plume of smoke across the room.

"No." Dee shook her head, "I asked, once, but he just walked away. I didn't push him; the last thing our marriage needs is another argument."

"There is no easy way to say this." Adama took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, "It appears that Miss Franklin fell pregnant not long before the attack, and that's what caused the argument with Lee." He took his glasses off and held them in one hand, gently tapping one arm against the blotting pad on his desk, "She left Caprica City for a cabin her father owned, and avoided the attack."

"She's alive?" Dee asked, swallowing the lump that had been growing in her throat.

"No; she died of complications during childbirth." Cottle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, stubbing out his cigarette in an ashtray at his elbow, "Her father looked after the child, a little girl, until they were found by the Cylons and taken to an internment camp."

"We believe that their attitude towards us was already changing by that point." Adama took up the story, "They were well looked after, and were among those who had already been loaded onto a transport to bring them here as part of the peace negotiations. Mr Franklin is dying; cancer, so Dr Cottle asked Dr Becket to run a DNA test to see if we could find any family in the fleet. We were more than a little surprised when their computer came up with Lee's name."

"I've run the tests again myself, twice." The ships CMO nodded, "There's no doubt that he's the father."

"This is a lot to take in." Dee sat in stunned silence for some time before asking, "Who else knows?"

"Outside the three of us, just Dr Becket." Cottle pulled a fresh cigarette and lit it, the bright flame from the match illuminating his face, "We felt it was best to tell you and your husband before anyone else."

"Does Lee know?" Dee turned to face Adama.

"No, not yet." The Admiral shook his head, "He'd already left with the President before we got the results back, but I felt it best to tell you now, as this affects you too."

"Lee's never been very happy with the idea of children." His daughter-in-law looked worried, "That's probably why he split up with Gianne; he's always been worried that he'd end up like you. Or at least; how he once thought you were."

"I was never the best father." Adama admitted, "But Lee is his own man, and I'm sure he'll be able to deal with this."

**

* * *

**

"Hello, Elizabeth." Sheppard's grin stretched across his face, "I hope you're sleeping better."

"John!" Weir crossed the distance between the two of them in a heartbeat and enveloped him in a hug, clinging to him like a drowning man clutching a life-raft, "John..."

"It's good to see you too." Sheppard returned the hug, burring his face in her neck, "God, I missed you."

"It's a Kodak moment." O'Neill smiled, mentally adding the sight before him to the ever-growing list of things he didn't officially see.

"So, what's a girl got to do to get noticed around here?" Another voice came from behind Apollo and Roslin, "Don't I get a hug too?"

Apollo almost jumped out of his skin, spinning round to see his friend and almost-lover standing there in a simple, flowing dress, "Kara?"

"He Lee." Starbuck smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face, "Don't freak out; it's really me, and every thing's going to be okay."

* * *

"What's our guest up too?" McKay asked, feeling a little more human after a shower and a change of cloths.

"Just reading." Zelenka looked across to where Six was sitting at a table covered in books, "The Torah, the Bible and the Koran; she says she's fascinated by our religions."

"As long as she doesn't start reading _Battlefield Earth_." Cater sat down with the other two scientist, followed closely by Jackson, "Scientology creeps me out a little as it is."

"True." McKay nodded, "So, how much do we know about her and Baltar anyway?"

"Having spent some time with Dr Baltar, and I will say only this; he makes you look reserved and humble by comparison." Zelenka shivered involuntarily, "He also told me something interesting about President Roslin; it appears that, while fighting cancer, she took medication that she knew would induce hallucinations. I naturally asked him why, and he said that she thought that they were 'visions' from the 'Lord of Kobol'."

"The Colonial President took drugs?" Jackson blinked, "That doesn't sound too good."

"Like yours is any better." McKay pointed out, "Anyway, I think we should seriously look into visiting Kobol some time soon; if it was an Ancient outpost, you never know what we might find."

_**

* * *

**_

"Do you mind if I sit here?" Apollo pointed to a spot near the fire burning away in the middle of the courtyard; it had been almost two hours since they'd finished the simple evening meal, and while the night was still warm, the fire added some much needed illumination.

"It's a free planet." O'Neill shrugged, tossing another small twig into the flames and watching as it was consumed by the flames, "Not enjoying the grand debate?"

"I've never been that religious." The Colonial pilot shook his head, "And sitting there discussing the Sacred Scrolls with someone who claims to have helped written them is more Starbuck's and the Presidents thing."

"I know the feeling." The General leaned back, looking up at the stars, "Every time Danny or Carter start talking about something or another I just zone out a little." He shrugged, "You could always go talk to Weir and Sheppard."

"I somehow doubt that they would thank me for the interruption." Apollo smiled, "Something tells me that they've been waiting a long time for a night like this."

"It's a son-of-a-bitch, falling in love with someone under you in the chain of command." O'Neill agreed, his mind drifting slightly, "But I think they have a chance; Elizabeth's a civilian, and well respected back on Earth."

"What about us?" The Major asked, "Are we respected?"

"No." O'Neill shook his head as he took a sip from something that tasted surprisingly like hot chocolate, "You did a lot of damage, the way you treated McKay and failed to apologise immediately. You've got a lot of ground to make up."

"Will we ever?" The question was pointed and to the point.

"Earth isn't perfect; I won't lie to you about that. Hell, we'll still fighting each other over the religions we have, let alone anything else. Who knows; maybe there's something we can learn from you after all."

**

* * *

**

Helo stood looking out across Atlantis; the sun was just setting, setting the water and city ablaze with reflected light. It looked like someone had taken the biggest box of gems in the universe and scattered them far and wide. Looking up, he could see the first few stars appearing, intermixed with the much brighter points of light that indicated the small armada of ships in orbit.

"I know how you feel." Teyla stepped through the open doorway, "I never tire of this view either."

"It's so beautiful." The Colonial Officer shook his head in disbelief, "It's hard to imagine, but Kobol must have been like this, thousands of years ago."

"The Ancestors were capable of many things, but so, I have learned, are we." Teyla leaned against the railing, "Even after all I have seen, I still find it hard to believe that your people made it so far in ships that were never designed for deep-space travel."

"It was hard, damn hard." Helo admitted, "I can't help but wonder how many more of us could have been here, if only we'd found you sooner."

"It does no good to ask such questions; even the people that built this city knew that wishing to change the past was a fools errand."

"I have a question, and I think that you're more likely to give me a straight answer than any of the others; is Atlantis safe?"

"It as safe as anywhere in a Galaxy infested by the Wraith." Teyla cocked her head to the side inquisitively, "Why do you ask?"

"Because this might be where Sharon and I bring our daughter up." Helo explained, "We can't go with the others to whatever planet they settle on, not after what the President did, and there's no way we'd go with the Cylons. As for Earth, I don't think that would be that good an idea; we'd spend our lives pretending to be something we're not."

"There are worse places to live." Teyla smiled as the sun finally sank below the horizon, and the city lit up like a swam of firefly's, "Where else could you get a view like this?"

* * *

"_'There must be some way out of here', said the joker to the thief, 'There's too much confusion, I can't get no relief.'_" Sheppard looked up at the stars, enjoying the warmth of the body lying next to his own, "_'Businessmen, they drink my wine, Ploughmen dig my earth, None of them along the line know what any of it is worth.'_"

"I've been hearing that song a lot lately." Weir commented, reaching across her partners chest with one arm, "I just can't remember where."

"That was probably me." Sheppard admitted, "I was worried about you, so I hung around Atlantis a lot, after I ascended."

"You could have told me: we all thought that you were dead..."

"Part of the deal; the others kind of suspected that we wouldn't be able to play by the rules, so they kept close tabs on us at first. Later on, it was almost like they wanted us to interfere, or at least some of them."

"Some of them?"

"They're fractured; some think they should take a more proactive stance against the Ori, while others still think that they need to leave us to our own devices."

"General O'Neill said something similar after he encountered an Ancient in Atlantis." Weir propped herself up on one elbow, enjoying the feel of the thin sheet of native silk slide across her skin, "He thinks that some of them want to help us, but don't want to risk presenting a disorganised front to the Ori."

"He's half right." Sheppard rubbed his forehead, "There are some, exceptions, to the rules; some times their allowed to interfere. The whole '_Lords of Kobol_' thing is part of that."

"There's more than that to it, isn't there?" Weir looked him in the eye, "John, what aren't you telling me?"

"There's something they told me, something Captain Thrace doesn't know, something I can't tell you or anyone else." Sheppard closed his eyes and rested his head back on the pillow, "I know who and what the Final Five Cylons are, and just what their purpose is." He sighed, "I just hope to hell the others were wrong, and they're never needed."

**To Be Continued...**


	33. New Horizons

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 33: New Horizons**

Adama made his way through the hatch into the _Galactica's_ CIC, feeling strangely at home in the quiet room: with the Asgard and Atlantis providing all the protection they needed, most of the crew was either taking some much needed and well earned R&R, or helping repair the damage the ship had received above New Caprica. Only Dee and Gaeta stood behind their stations. Both began to stand when they say him, but he waved them back to their seats as he walked to the plotting table.

In many ways, the all but empty room was an unpleasant reminder of the visual they had kept above New Caprica, before the Cylons had arrived with overwhelming forces. Out-gunned and out-numbered, the _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_ had led the few remaining civilian ships still in orbit away from the planet to a pre-arranged rendezvous point in deep space. Adama doubt that he would ever forgive himself for giving the order, no matter how many times he reminded himself it had been the only option open to him.

He looked up at the DRADIS: the mining ships had finished their first run, and were returning with holds filled with tylium and other much needed ores for the refinery ship to process. A swarm of shuttles made their way between the ships, delivering much needed supplies from Atlantis. Adama wasn't sure just what MRE stood for, but he had heard one wit in the pilots ready room suggest '_Meal Rejected by Enemy_'.

Whatever it meant, the _Odyssey_ had arrived with its cargo holds full to bursting point with them, as had the _Ha'Tak_ General O'Neill had traded for the second ZPM, and it was better than nothing, which is what the fleet had been down to. Atlantis was still working hard to get fresh produce in from their contacts around the Pegasus galaxy, but it was a slow and time consuming business that was yet to bare any meaningful results.

His eyes glanced at the icons representing the Cylon fleet, then to the photos taken by a _Raptor_ on its way down to Atlantis: the newly arrived ships from the edge of Cylon controlled space were and odd assortment, including a couple of the old double-disk Basestar's they had used during the first Cylon/Colonial war. Others looked like someone had cut one of the newer capitol ships in half, leaving just an arrow-headed section behind. What little information they had pointed to them being Destroyer-type ships, armed primarily with anti-ship missiles and only a handful of _Raiders_ each.

Adama found the existence of such ships worrying, and if not for Dr Weir and General O'Neill's promise that Atlantis could handle any act of aggression by the Cylons, even without Asgard help, he world have ordered the civilian fleet further away from the planet.

"Sir, we're receiving a transmission from Atlantis." Gaeta reported, "They say that the President and Major Adama are on their way back..." He paused for a moment, holding his earpiece in place to make sure he was hearing what was being said properly, "They request that both Lt Anders and yourself prepare to be transported down to Atlantis, but they won't say why."

"Very well." The Admiral nodded, "Inform Captain Kelly that he has command until Colonel Tigh returns from the _Ha'Tak,_ and page Mr Anders."

**

* * *

**

"This had better be good." McKay protested as he made his way down the steps leading to the Stargate, "I was just about to go to bed."

"You know as much as I do, Doctor." Lorne shrugged, "General O'Neill contacted us to say that they'd be back any time now, and that certain people had to be here when they arrived."

The bright flash of an Asgard transporter lit the room, announcing the arrival of Thor, Adama and Anders, the trainee-pilot looking like he hadn't slept in days.

"That's Captain Thrace's husband." Baltar commended, having gravitated to the centre of attention like a moth to a flame, "What's he doing here?"

"I have no idea." Zelenka slipped his hands into his pockets, "No one tells me anything."

"This is one of these times that you know as much as we do." Jackson reassured him, felling more than a little worried himself, "I just wish I knew what Jack was planning..."

As if on cue, the Stargate came to life, the lights indicating the different chevrons flicking on moments before the wormhole was established. The defensive shield flashed on as a precondition, then was dropped as soon as the operations officer decoded O'Neill IDC.

The Puddle Jumper emerged from the Stargate, but only General O'Neill and President Roslin could been seen through the view port, the two seats behind them empty and the hatch to the rear cargo compartment closed. The doors to the jumper bay opened, but rather than rising up, the stout craft span round and landed, its rear hatch facing the assembled party. There was hiss as the hatch was lowered, then the room fell silent at two figurers stepped out.

"What?" Sheppard asked with a cocky grin, "You're all acting like you've never seen a guy return from the dead before!"

"Fracking idiot..." Starbuck shook her head before turning to face Adama and her husband, snapping of a rather lazy salute, "Sir! Sam."

"Starbuck..." Adama looked visibly shaken, while Anders slowly walked over to his wife and enveloped her in a tight embrace.

"It's been one of those days." O'Neill leaned against the side of the hatch, "Who would have thought that the Ancients could be useful for a change?"

"Sir." Carter rolled her eyes, earning herself a playful elbow in the ribs from Jackson, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Don't tell me you know something about this, Space-Monkey?" The General raised an eyebrow.

"Let's just say that I had my suspicions." His friend winked, "Try and remember, I'm the founding member of the SGC Ascension Club."

The joke seemed to shock everyone else out of their dazed state, and Sheppard found himself lifted off the ground by Ronon, while Teyla and McKay stood ready to welcome him back as well. Starbuck reluctantly broke away from Anders and walked over to Adama. She stood before her superior like a school girl sent before the principle, before his expression softened and he gently put his arms around her daughter daughter.

"Oh my God, Starbuck?" Athena stood at the top of the steps, holding her daughter in her arms. She quickly made her way down to the lower level and put her free arm around her friend, "What happened? We all saw you die!"

"I got better." The other pilot smiled, "And this must be Hera."

"Yes it is." The young Cylon held up the child, "Hera, this is Kara Thrace."

"Hey, kiddo." Starbuck lent in closer to look at Hera, "Boy, are you going to be a heart-breaker when you get older! I just hope you have your mothers brains, but not her piloting skills."

"Hey!" Athena protested the joke, "At least I've not been shot down yet."

"Give it time, give it time." Her friend smiled, "I'm glad you got her back."

* * *

"What's the matter Gaius, feeling left out?" Six appeared behind Baltar, dressed again in her slinky red dress, "No ticker-tape parades for you? No cheering crowed?"

"I actually prefer it this way." He replied under his breath, making sure that no one else could hear him, "Given all that has happened, I think that perhaps slipping quietly away is for the best."

"Good; you're learning." The hallucination nodded, "We have high hopes for you, Gaius, high hopes indeed. There's a storm coming, and nothing any of you do is going to stop that. All you can do is prepare."

"You're one of them, aren't you?" Baltar turned to face her, "You're one of these 'Ancients' the Thirteenth Tribe go on about?"

"No, I'm something else." Six shook her head, "There are some things you're not ready for, not yet."

**

* * *

**

"You wanted to see me?" Apollo walked into the _Galactica's_ infirmary, and stopped dead when he saw his wife and father waiting with Cottle, "Sir? Dee? What are you doing here?"

"You'd better take a seat." Adama gestured to an empty chair, "There's something we have to discuss; something important."

"It's about two of the prisoners the Cylons released as part of the peace talk." Cottle leaned back against one of the beds, "A man and his grand-daughter: Elijah and Gianne Franklin."

"Gianne..." Apollo almost fell out of his chair, "Are you trying to tell me that..."

"No, the woman you were involved with is dead." Cottle shrugged, "Sorry for being blunt; I've found that there's no easy way to break that sort of news."

"Gianne's your daughter." Dee spoke for the first time, "Now the question we want answered is, are you going to do the right thing, and acknowledge that, or are you going to run away again?

* * *

"Good, you're all here." Woolsey made his way into Weir's office, followed closely by Henderson, "I've heard back from the IOA about the investigation."

"What investigation." Roslin asked, shifting somewhat uncomfortably in her seat.

"Commander Henderson is the senior officer of the Judge Advocate Generals office assigned to the Stargate Command." Weir explained, "He was sent here to investigate what happened to Dr McKay."

"That reminds me." Starbuck started to get up from her chair next to the President, "I really need to go apologise..."

"I'm afraid that that won't be possible." Woolsey shook his head, "While the IOA accepts that you were operating in a time of war, it is unable to accept your actions. Something I find highly ironic, given some of the things our own government does. But anyway, a decision has been made; due to your diplomatic status, neither of you can be charged with any criminal offence under Earth Law, but you can and have been declared _Persona Non Grata_."

"What does that mean?" Starbuck jumped to her feet, "Are you going to try and kill us or something?"

"No, it means that you have been declared an _'unwelcome person'_." Weir explained, then looked at Woolsey, "What are the terms?"

"Both President Roslin and Captain Thrace are to be expelled from Atlantis as soon as possible, and may not return, except in an emergency or at the direct invitation of the IOA. You are both also bared from ever visiting Earth. And as a special consideration due to his mental state, will not be allowed within 50-feet of Dr McKay with out his consent, and only then under armed escort." He bowed his head slightly, "I'm sorry, but that is the decision of the Advisory Council."

**To Be Continued...**

_What follows is the other idea I had for Sheppard and Starbuck's return from the dead, but after discussing it with a friend I decided that a much more dramatic scene was more in keeping the plot. __None the less, this is roughly what I had in mind:_

Every one in the control room looked round as a flash of light enveloped Weir's office. Nothing could be seen through the window, but O'Neill made his way across to the door and looked in.

"Hello?" A voice came from behind the desk, "A little help here?"

"Colonel Sheppard?" O'Neill asked, only slightly surprised.

"General O'Neill, Sir." The other officer replied after a slight pause, "I hope you'll forgive me for not standing and saluting, but..."

"You're naked back there, aren't you?" Jackson asked.

"...kind of" Sheppard admitted somewhat sheepishly.

"Yeah, the Ancients seem to have some kind of fetish about de-ascending people without their cloths." O'Neill looked round, "Somebody want to find the Colonel a set of BDU's?"

"Can you make that two sets?" A new voice asked.

"Captain Thrace, I presume?" O'Neill raised an eyebrow, then turned to face Jackson and slapped him on the back, "Okay Danny-boy, looks like you're finally off the top of the _'most embarrassing returns from the dead'_ list."

"Starbuck?" Adama asked, "Is that really you?"

"I'm afraid so, Sir." The _Viper_ pilot responded.

"This sort of thing happens a lot?" Roslin looked equal parts bemused and amused.

"It's more common than we'd like." Jackson winced, "Although, I seem to be the Ancients favourite plaything..."


	34. The Virtue Of The Truth

_Before anyone asks, let me explain the delay:  
__I needed to take a time-out from writing 70k words of one story, then Halo 3 came out.  
__Not an excuse, just an explanation._

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 34: The Virtue Of The Truth**

"Hey, Rodney." Sheppard made his way across the main science lab, thankful to be back in his regular BDU's, "We didn't get a chance to talk before."

"Well, if you will insist on coming back from the dead." McKay joked without looking round from the experiment he was running, "That does kind of grab everyone's attention."

"Come on; I didn't think you could work here unless you've come back from the dead at least once." Sheppard jokes as he sat down next to his team mates desk, "Hell, back at the SGC, it hardly raises an eyelid these days."

"Yes, well, there you go." The Scientist just shrugged.

"Rodney!" Sheppard snapped closed the laptop McKay was working on, "Talk to me."

"And say what?" His team-mate asked, "You want to act like this argument we had on the _Daedalus_ never happened?"

"Yes! no! I don't know!" Sheppard fought to try and find the right words, "Look, a lot of what you said was true: we really don't know each other that well, and that is something that we should work towards changing. Teyla, Ronon, you and I should spend some time together, as a team, outside of our missions."

"From what I hear, you'll be spending most of your free time with Elizabeth." McKay managed to smile slightly at the surprised look on Sheppard's face, "Gossip; the only known method of communication that can outrun subspace."

"I'll try and remember that." The Colonel nodded, "Look, I do feel really bad about the way I treated you, and while I doubt that we're ever going to be as close as SG-1 were, are, whatever, I do think we can at least be friends." He offered his hand, "What do you say?"

"Okay." McKay took the offered hand and shook it, not quite disguising how happy he was feeling, "How do we start this?"

"Well, coming back from the dead does have some advantages; I get to pick the first film for the next movie night." Sheppard sat in the nearest chair, "What's your favourite movie of all time?"

"Not going to answer that." McKay shook his head, "You'll laugh."

"I give you my word that I will not laugh." Sheppard held up his right hand, "On my honour as an officer."

"_Casablanca_." The physicist winced, "My all-time favourite movie is _Casablanca_."

Sheppard shook visibly with the strain of not laughing out loud, but tears welled up in his eyes.

"See, this is why I never open up around people." McKay turned away in disgust, "What's not to like about _Casablanca_? It's a story about love, honour, friendship and self-sacrifice, all character traits that I know I am somewhat lacking in, but still admire."

"I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at myself." Sheppard managed to regain his composure, "It's my favourite movie; has been since I was a little kid." he walked over to the other man and put an arm around his shoulder, "Rodney, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship..."

**

* * *

**

"This had better be important." O'Neill yawned as he made his way out onto Atlantis' main landing pad, "It is very..." He looked at the sun, high in the sky, "Well, my body is telling me that it is very early and I have had very little sleep the past few days."

"Understandable, and I apologise." Cavil bowed, "But the Asgard are going to start transporting our ships to the planet they helped us select, and so we have very little time."

A shadow fell over the field as a small Cylon transport came into land, the turbulence from its engines picking up all the dust and light debris into a storm that engulfed the waiting party.

"I could have done without that; I haven't even had a coffee yet." O'Neill growled, his mood not improving, "What's this supposed to be; some elaborate goodbye?"

"Not exactly." Cavil smiled as the transports cargo bay doors opened, the loading ramp extending down. The cavernous interior was dark, but it was soon lit by the ominous red glow of a Centurions eye, pulsing back and forth. It was joined by another, and another, until the entire cargo bay seemed to be coming alive. The resounding thud of metal on metal filled the air as an entire company of Centurions marched out of the ship and stood in ranks in front of a startled O'Neill.

"Dear God in heaven." O'Neill gasped unlike the Centurions he had seen before, these seemed to be of a much more basic design, resembling a man in a high-tech suit of armour. But with a large and deadly looking assault-rifle slung over one shoulder, a long sword handing from a scarab attached to their waists. It took him a moment to remember where he had seen them before: the so-called 'Harbinger of Doom' in the abandoned museum on the _Galactica_.

"Cylon Centurion Model 0005, built on Caprica over sixty years ago." Cavil explained, "These fought in the Third Colonial War, part of Fifteen Beta Three Brigade. They're not the best conversationalists, but they are surprisingly resilient, especially against Wraith weapons."

"You're giving them to us?" The General asked.

"The Wraith hurt us, forced us off of the only world we ever had to call home. We don't yet have the strength to strike back, but you do."Cavil smiled, "We have no need for them; it's easier to build new Centurions than try and update these to our latest specifications. We re-set their old programming, some the Colonials will be able to confirm, and ordered them to follow orders from with Dr Weir or yourself, as well as anyone else you order them to."

On cue, the assembled Centurions came sharply to attention, and in one voice announced, "_**BY YOUR COMMAND!**_"

* * *

Apollo made his way through the now almost deserted landing bay that had housed Dogsville: almost all of the displaced civilians had been moved over to the Ha'Tak, the Asgard transporter technology making the task much easier than it would have been. Still, there were some whom were too ill to be moved, and they remained under the care of the _Galactica's_ medical staff and a number of volunteers from Atlantis and the surviving medical contingent from the destroyed _Daedalus_. New faces, new medicines and fresh ideas had radically changed the way the sick and injured were being helped across the fleet.

Cottle was waiting outside a curtained off area, a grim expression on his face.

"You're late." His tone was even gruffer than normal, "He's taken a turn for the worst; it's only a matter of hours now."

The CAG just nodded his head as he pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the small area of privacy. The man laying on the bed looked deathly pale, wires and dips leading off to a half dozen machines, many Apollo had never seen before. Dr Becket stood next to him, his face as grave as Cottle's as he looked at the chart in his hands. He looked up at the pilot and frowned.

"We've done all we can." His voice was hushed, so as not to wake the young child sleeping curled up in a chair next to the bed, "But, there is a point where even our medical since can't do anything: the body decides that enough is enough and gives up."

"I ain't dead yet." A raspy voice came from the bed, and two half-focused eyes looked a surprised Apollo up and down, "What the Frack do you want?"

"Mr Franklin," Apollo took a dee breath, "my name is Lee Adama, I'm..."

"I know who you are." The older man's voice lost a lot of its harshness, "My daughter showed me a photo, once; the one reminder she allowed herself." He closed his eyes again. "I buried her with it."

"I can't apologise enough for the way I treated Gianne; it was a cowardly act, something I'm going to regret for the rest of my life." Apollo continued, "But your daughter is dead, and you're not going to last much longer..."

"You want to look after my grand-daughter." A lightning-fast and surprisingly strong hand grabbed the pilot by the arm and yanked him down until he was face to face with the old man, "You give me your word as an Officer, as a Man, that you will never abandon her the same way you did her mouther, or I swear to Zeus, I will claw my way out of Hades and make you pay."

"I...I..." Apollo gasped.

"SWEAR IT!" Franklin snapped, a coughing fit shaking his body, "My Gods man, if my daughter ever meant anything to you, swear it!"

"I swear it." Apollo nodded, "I swear, on my brothers grave, that I will give my life to defend Gianne!"

"Good, that's...good." The strength seemed to flow out of the old man's body, "I can never forgive you for what you did, but if you hadn't broken her heart, my daughter and grand-daughter would have died in the Capital, and for that strange twist of fate I am thankful."

There was a faint smile on Franklin's face as the machine around him started to bleep hurriedly, until Becket silenced them, "Time of death, 0345 hours, ship-time."

**

* * *

**

"And there they go." Roslin leaned back in her chair, watching the Cylon fleet taking off into hyperspace with their Asgard escort, "For the first time since we first created them, we are truly free of the Cylons."

"For now." Adama looked up from the file he was reading, "Although I do take some comfort in the fact that they don't know where we are going."

"We don't know where we're going." Zarek gestured towards the pile of folders spread across the presidents desk, "Over two dozen planets to pick from. You'd think that we'd be able to find just one that met our needs."

"The problem is, I don't think we even know what our needs are." Roslin took her glasses off and rubbed her tired eyes, "Do we pick a planet near to Earth? One with a pleasant climate? Ore with the ores we need in abundance?"

"I think that proximity to Earth should be our main concern." Adama suggested, "While they have made it clear that any attempt to send a ship there uninvited will be met with deadly force, they have also admitted that there are several hostile groups out there, the Ori being the most menacing."

"This one." Starbuck picked up one of the files, seemingly at random, "This is the planet we need to go to."

"And reason you care to give?" Zarek asked somewhat sceptically, "Or is this just woman's intuition?"

"It's more than that." The pilot shook her head, "I don't know why, but I feel drawn to this one. The others, I feel indifferent about, but not that one."

"Stable climate, no native inhabitance and abundant natural resources." Adama examined the file, " It's not as close to Earth as I would have liked, but it does seem workable."

"I think, given recent events, that we should trust Captain Thrace's intuition." Roslin smiled, "Looks like we've got a new home to go to."

**To Be Continued...**


	35. Childhoods End

**Encounter At Dawn  
****Part 35: Childhoods End**

Baltar looked about the rooms that had been his home since arriving in Atlantis; they were as stark and utilitarian as ever, but in many ways they had been the first place he had felt at home since the first Cylon attack, three years before. He could spend his entire life in Atlantis, and never even scratch the surface of all it had to teach him. But that was not to be: the SGC had decided that he would be of more use to them on Earth, helping them reverse engineer Colonial and Cylon technology. They had also made it clear that he would be watched closely for the foreseeable future,

his past forgiven but not forgotten.

"Have you finished packing?" Six stood in the doorway leading to the bedroom, "The _Odyssey_ leaves this afternoon, and we have to report on-board at least an hour beforehand."

"Packed?" Baltar looked at the two holdalls that held everything he owned, mainly cloths he had drawn from the expeditions quartermaster and a computer Zelenka had given him, "I don't think I ever unpacked."

"I know this is a big change, but we're going to be living on Earth; our child will be born there." His companion walked over and put her arms around him, "The others won't be allowed there; you won."

"Some victory." He scoffed, "I get to spend the rest of my life on a planet that will probably never know who I am."

"They'll know, one day." Six kissed him softly, "And we have our whole life together to look forward to."

**

* * *

**

"I wish I could convince you to leave at least one of the Zee-PM's." Weir did her best to smile sweetly, "We could really use them."

"And in a perfect universe, I'd gladly let you have them." O'Neill shook his head, "No; we need one to power the _Odyssey _when we next go up against the Ori, and the other for the Outpost in Antarctica. Our attempts to power the drone-control chair there with Naquadah generators has been, less than spectacular. And truth be told, I'd like to have it working if and when the Ori come calling."

"Well, at least you're not taking my new bodyguard with you." Weir looked at the pair of Centurions standing guard outside her office; they had cause quite the stir when the Colonials had first seen them. "I think I'm going like like having staff who respond to my every order with '_By Your Command_'."

"Yeah, well, try and keep at least some in one piece." The General shook his head, "And you're going to have the _Pegasus_ to play with, once the Asgard finish working on her. That said, the IOA is still arguing as to just who officially gets her; last I heard they were talking about putting her under the direct command of the Security Council."

"As long as we get her until then." Sheppard smiled, "I've seen some of the plans Thor put to Caldwell; the _Pegasus_ is going to be one of the toughest, meanest ships in three Galaxies!"

"You can simmer down; Caldwell is still getting command." O'Neill smiled slightly, "The SGC is going to be busy helping the Colonials get settled on their new planet, so it may be a while before you receive that much more in the way of new people and equipment from us."

"Elizabeth, you need to see this!" Zelenka walked passed the two Centurions without even raising an eyebrow before starting to rant in his native language.

"Radek!" McKay followed closely behind, eyeing the two Cylon guards slightly nervously, "You need to calm down."

"What's going on?" O'Neill asked, slightly bemused.

"The city, it's begun constructing fresh Drones!" Zelenka explained after taking a deep breath, "There are approximately twice as many in our reserve than there were last week."

"We don't know how, and we don't know why, but some automated system seems to have been activated." McKay beamed, "Teyla and Ronon have gone to have a look at it in action."

"It will take time, but we should have a full stock in a matter of months." Zelenka added, "Then, maybe we can start sending some back through the Stargate to Earth to replenish the Antarctica outpost."

"Freakin' sweet!" O'Neill's smile broadened to a grin, "I guess the Ancients found another loop-hole." His watch bleeped, "I've got to go: the Asgard have offered to take us as far as the new Colonial Homeworld, so we can avoid taxing our Zee-PM. Hopefully I managed to set the TiVo correctly and didn't miss an episode of _The Simpson's_."

"Hang on a second." Sheppard sat up, a confused look on his face, "Only three people can work the control chair in Antarctica: you, Becket and me. If we're all here, what the hell are they going to do if the Ori or someone else turns up before you can get back?"

"Our Ace-In-The-Hole; Joe Spencer." O'Neill smiled as he grabbed his dress cap from Weir's desk, "He's a civilian who has the ATA, almost as strong as I do."

"You have a civilian manning the Earth's only defensive option?" McKay was taken aback, "What does the IOA think?"

"I thought it was best not to tell them." O'Neill winked as he headed for the door, "They might get a bit worried if I told them that planetary security was being handled by a barber from Indiana."

**

* * *

**

"We're really doing this?" Helo asked as he watched the last supply shuttle take off across the city, heading up the the waiting fleet, "We're really leavening everything behind."

"We're not leaving everything behind." Athena pointed out, "We're still officers in the Colonial Fleet and we have a mission; liaise between Atlantis and the Admiral."

"Just how much 'liaising' are we going to do with the _Galactica_ in another Galaxy?" Helo asked.

"Colonel Sheppard is talking about putting together an expedition to Kobol as soon as the _Pegasus_ is ready, and they'll need someone who's been there to guide them." His wife pointed out, leaning against the high rail guarding the balcony, "And we get to keep Hera safe..."

"The President is not out to get Hera." Helo reassured her, "You heard what the Admiral and Dr Weir said; as long as she's on Earth or Atlantis, no one will ever be allowed to hurt her."

"Then I guess it's true what you humans say." A frown settled on Athena's face as she looked out over the sea, "You can never go home again."

* * *

Adama stood in the middle of the CIC, the room once again a hive of activity as the fleet prepared to make the hyperspace-jump to their new Homeworld. The idea the thought of travelling to another Galaxy entirely in a matter of hours was almost too much for him to comprehend. He couldn't help but wonder how many lives could have been saved, how many hardship could have been avoided, if they had only encountered the Atlantis Expedition sooner. A man could spend his entire life thinking like that, and he had more important things on his mind, like his newly discovered granddaughter, and the possibility of seeing just where his relationship with Laura Roslin would go.

Peace, a dream he had been unable to hope for for so long was now in their grasp. Unlike the string of blunders that had been the settlement of New Caprica, their new destination had been surveyed by the SGC as the sight for a possible off-world research station, so they had detailed information to base their plans on, and the promise of help and much needed heavy equipment to kick-start the process. All they needed was a little time, and a little luck.

"All ships report ready, Sir." Gaeta reported, "The Asgard say they are ready to go when we are."

"Very well." Adama nodded and lifted the intercom, setting it to fleet-wide, "This is the Admiral; let's go home."

**

* * *

**

Baltar stood looking out the observation bay window as the Colonial Remnant were towed into Hyperspace by the much larger and more powerful Cylon fleet. The _Odyssey_ herself followed on behind, riding the edge of the energy wave without the need for an actual tractor-beam. Hardly a moment went by when he was not confronted by some marvel of advanced technology that the rest of the crew seemed to take for granted. Despite its rather stark design and primitive look, the _Odyssey_ was still perhaps a hundred years ahead of anything the Cylons of Colonials even had on the drawing board. He knew that he would have to spend a lot of time catching up if he wanted to prove his worth.

But he has, as Six had said, all the time in the world.

* * *

"Penny for your thoughts?" Weir asked as she stepped out onto the balcony connected to her room, "Or would I be over-spending?"

"I was just thinking about everything that's happened." Sheppard looked out over the moonlit ocean, "Every thing's changed, for better or for worse."

"I hope that we come under the 'better' heading?" Weir put her arms around him and kissed his neck, "Or is there more you're not telling me?"

"There's a storm coming, Elizabeth; I can smell it in the air." Sheppard looked up at the cloudless sky, "This isn't the end. In fact, I have a terrible feeling that this is only the beginning."

**The End**

_This story is in the region of 73,200 words long.  
__It has so far received over 600 reviewers (both positive and negative) on three different websites.  
__Over 200 people were automatically informed by email when the last chapter was posted.  
__If printed out, single space, it would fill 146 pages of A4 paper.  
I__'ve already begun prep-work on the sequel, but it will take time.  
__To all those who have supported me, I offer my heartfelt thanks and appreciation.  
__And to those who doubted me, I will say only this:_

_Hope finds a way._


End file.
